Happiness Doesn't Last For Long
by infamouschelsea
Summary: Follow on from Fifty Shades Freed, before the epilogue. Life was starting to look up for Ana and Christian but just as happiness sets in, something more sinister is lurking around the corner ready to throw everything into chaos. Life with Fifty Shades is never as it first seems. Please expect explicit language and adult themes. Suitable for older audiences. *NO CHEATING!*
1. Chapter 1

This is a follow on from Fifty Shades Freed, before the epilogue.

After finishing the trilogy I needed more. I started thinking what if the past wasn't as dealt with as they thought? What if a few faces make an appearance just as Ana and Christian are getting back on track?

I hope you enjoy it, and please note that this is my first time writing any sort of fan fiction. So please, bare with me. There might be errors, I am human however I have done my upmost to remain true to James's writing style. I am English so please excuse any spelling differences or lack of some 'Americanisms'.

**Disclaimer: The characters in this story are those represented in E. 's Fifty Shades Trilogy, therefore they remain her property. The plot and themes of this story are purely my own. I am in no way affliated with James. No copyright infringment is intended.**

* * *

I barely made it to the bathroom this time. I mean having an en-suite is helpful, but only if I can untangle myself from the bed-sheets, leap frog off the bed and run into the bathroom, ready to projectile vomit the contents of my stomach down the toilet.

As I watch the reminder of my dinner from last night flush away down the porcelain, I rest my head of the side of the toilet. The coolness is freshening; why do you always feel ridiculously hot after you puke your stomach up? I feel my insides slowly returning to normality when hunger sets in. These days if I don't eat within an hour of waking up I feel light-headed, disorientated and even weaker than usual. At least Christian is happy that I'm eating regularly, especially considering that a few months ago I could barely take a bite out of something before having to spit it out, along with the lining of my delicate stomach. Nowadays I am fitting in work around my eating habits: I have breakfast at home, courtesy of Mrs Jones, I have lunch brought to me in my office, usually with a selection of candy to satisfy my ridiculous cravings, and ninety per cent of the time I have Hannah, my assistant, bring me a mid-afternoon snack to last me till dinner.

I climb up onto my feet, using the toilet to support me – it really is shocking how much this is affecting my body. I know it's outrageous, of course it would mess me around and change so many things but I never expected it to be this severe. As I regain myself, I smooth my hair, pulling out my hair tie letting it fall down my back, between my shoulder blades and pushing the fly-a-ways behind my ears. I catch a glimpse at myself in the mirror and I am surprised to see that I still look like me but with a clammy complexion, flushed cheeks and bags under my eyes. _You look like this, pure shit, every morning and he never says anything? Is he blind?_ My subconscious questions me, lifting my hair to inspect the damage; I scowl at her wanting to throw something heavy and potentially dangerous in her direction. Why did I give away those Tess books from Christian? They would be perfect! I splash some water over my face after furiously brushing my teeth to get rid of every last residue of before. One last look at myself in the huge mirror above the basin, settles my mind; I look somewhat respectable. Heading back into the bedroom I pull down my grey camisole over my stomach, I rest my fingers there for a second.

"You really are making Mommy feeling awful, Blip!" I whisper as I look down.

There's nothing there right now, at twelve weeks I have the smallest bump in the world – I mean, I can barely tell it's there, Christian of course first noticed the slight change, after all he knows my body better than I do. The most noticeable change has been my breasts. Although they haven't swelled dramatically, they are a lot tenderer and more sensitive to stimulation; Christian hasn't denied this and definitely rejoices in this change.

I head out of the bedroom and across the hall, over to the kitchen, heading in the direction of food to suppress Blips tyranny. Blip definitely takes after Christian, he's obsessed with me eating just like his father, and he isn't even here yet! Since finding out I was pregnant, in the untimely way I did, I have always referred to Blip as he. I have regular dreams of a little boy, with copper hair and grey eyes running through the meadow at the new house. Christian, after the fall out of the news and all that business with Hyde, which neither of us has discussed since the week I was released from hospital, follows suit in thinking Blip is a boy. I want him to have a son; I want to give him a son. Even though we are convinced little Blip is a boy, we're still preparing ourselves on the off chance that we're having a girl instead. I still laugh thinking back to when I first mentioned this to Christian, his face dropped to the ground in shock of the idea of having a daughter. Two women to contend with! Though, I think the idea of having a mini Ana is appealing to him, his words ring through my mind sending shivers throughout my core: _"A little blue-eyed angel with delicious chocolate hair? I'm lucky to have one in my life, let alone being able to call you my best friend and wife, but to have the chance of another? I would be the luckiest son of a bitch in the universe! Two beautiful angels to protect and love."_

I find Mrs Jones hovering around the kitchen, cleaning, as I enter. She looks up and smiles at me as I settle into one of the barstools at the counter.

"Good morning Mrs Grey. What can I get you for breakfast this morning?"

"Gail, please call me Ana. I know Christian doesn't like the informality of it, but I really would feel more comfortable if you would just call me Ana." I smile at her. I really do find it uncomfortable when she and the security team refer to me as 'Mrs Grey'. Yes, I am Mrs Grey, and yes I can contend with Taylor and the others calling me by that, more so to please Christian, but Gail should call me Ana – she lives us, and looks after us, she shouldn't feel the need to be stand off-ish with us.

"Ana." She grins at me, setting down a place mat in front of me. "Now what can I get you?"

"I think I'll just settle for Granola this morning. Thank you."

"Any fruit?"

"Please. But, please no Bananas. Or any type of Melon!" I persist to her.

My latest aversions are towards Bananas and Melons. Just the smell of them makes me nauseous. Just the thought of them makes my insides quiver and twist. I concentrate of my breathing, taking in deep, slow and steady breathes to calm myself, whilst resting my head in my hands. I notice Gail in the corner of my eye, setting down my breakfast on the counter along with a cup of tea. Raising my head, and sitting back slightly, I throw over a, 'I'm fine, don't worry' smile to her. Of course Gail found out I was pregnant that night I told Christian. After he left, stormed out and got mindlessly drunk and saw the bitch that shall not be named, she comforted me and checked in on me. It would be difficult to keep this from her; she has been subjected to me leaping from the kitchen running to the bathroom on my many occasions of 'morning sickness'. They really should rename that to 'all fucking day sickness'! That and, as expected, my diet has changed – no meats or fish that's undercooked or raw, certain cheeses are now off limits, along with caffeine and alcohol. I do miss the wine; the delicious, mouth-watering white wines that Christian selects to accompany dinner. I told Christian to continue as he was, he shouldn't stop enjoying wine just because I can't touch the stuff, though it is a temptation, but having Blip is enough of a reason not to drink. I don't need it; I don't want it!

"There you go Ana. Still suffering?" She rests her hand on my shoulder, comforting me. I know she worries, as do all the staff – I recall Sawyer fretting when I almost fainted after missing lunch last week, anyone would have thought he was having a coronary!

"Sure am. I hoping now that I'm at three months it'll start easing up. I read last week it usually settles down in the second phase. I'm hoping I'm not one of those ones that get it throughout. I don't know if I can cope with this for six more months!"

"I'm praying for you. Though, you've coped well thus far." She smiles and winks at me, leaving me to my breakfast in peace. I assume she goes off to her living quarters for a break, or to tidy up some part of the apartment. She does so much, it's a wonder that she hasn't up and left before now! Mrs Jones really is an angel sent from heaven.

I finish up my Granola and fruit in record time – Blip really doesn't like to be kept waiting! My stomach feels hard and on the brink of exploding. I leave my plate and cup in the sink, for Gail to clean up; usually I would just clean it myself but today is going to be an agonising day, and I'd much rather get out of the door to face it head on.

Back in the bedroom I strip out of my camisole and sweats, throwing them into the closet unconcerned with their destination. I grab my blue shift dress from one of the hangers, knowing it's the nearest thing to me and the quickest and easiest thing to throw on. Pushing it down over my chest, and smoothing it out over my hips, it falls into perfect place. This dress is pretty much the only work outfit I have chosen myself, after a spontaneous shopping trip with Mia a few weeks ago. At the time I was concerned with buying something, knowing that in a little while I won't be able to fit into anything, but this dress is fairly loose around my stomach. I'm hopeful I have a little more use out of it before Blip gets too big for regular clothes! I make a mental note to ask Christian if Neimans do maternity clothes.

I slip into my nude patent heels and run a comb through my hair before pulling it up into a hair tie. Yes, I look somewhat like an Editor this morning and less of a meek assistant who has no idea what she's doing. _You're more than an Editor, you practically own the place!_ My subconscious bellows at me as she briefly glances up from her copy of 'Dorian Grey'. It's true, though Christian is the one in charge, at least until he gifts it to me as a 'wedding present'. I'm still dumbfounded by this, I got him cufflinks with our initials and he goes and gives me a publishing house? He really does have more money than sense. _We have more money_, I remind myself. _We!_

Grabbing my handbag and Blackberry from the dresser, I hastily make my way through the apartment towards the foyer, where I know Sawyer will be waiting for me. Every morning is the same: I have breakfast, get dressed, meet Sawyer in at the elevator ready to be accompanied to work, the meet Sawyer in the reception of Grey Publishing ready to be picked up and escorted home again. Christian has put a full-blown hard limit on me driving now that I'm pregnant. Honestly, anyone would think I was made of glass! Instead I am driven everywhere, usually it's Sawyer, unless I join Christian in the SUV, then Taylor drives – though, Sawyer is always there ready to stalk me at work. I swear sometimes I see more of Sawyer than I do my husband!

"Good morning, Mrs Grey." He nods as the elevator doors slide open and I step in beside him.

"Good morning, Sawyer. I hope you're well?" I look over to him, acknowledging his hesitancy towards me. It's been six weeks, if not more, since the Hyde business, and whilst I have apologised to him for the way I acted, I can still see that he's off with me, in no doubt that he's probably trying to second guess anything I do, just in case. I know Christian gave them all a kick up the ass after what happened; trying to reason with him was pointless, he knows why I did what I did and is grateful, but I also understand why he was so pissed off and furious. After all, I am his wife; I would die a thousand deaths if anything were to happen to him, and now I am carrying our child. He could have lost us both. I thank God every day that he turned up when he did, Jack could have done anything. I shake my head banishing these thoughts; I don't think a blubbering, hormonal woman would make things between Sawyer and me any easier.

"Yes, ma'am, and I you."

I nod back at him and smile briefly. Yes, this is too awkward. I wonder if Christian would object to allowing Prescott to come back. It was my fault she was fired, I gave her the okay to have Leila come and visit me. Christian insists that you can't just hire some after you've already fired them, something to do with trust. I feel guilty for what happened. Maybe after a bit of sucking up he'll cave? Or maybe a bit of sucking in general? I feel my cheeks flash crimson from my thoughts.

The ride to work is tedious, long and slow from the mid-morning Seattle traffic. I told Hannah yesterday that I would be coming in later this morning after having a late meeting last night. She knows to pass on any vital information to my next in command, Danielle Wilkes, if I'm otherwise engaged. Danielle started working for us shortly after my release my hospital, as a means of tiding things over while I got back on my feet, though she's proven to be useful in all manners of things – dealing with persistent and back breaking authors who want you running around after them 24/7, handling difficult staffing issues and just being amazing in everything she does. I'm grateful knowing that in a few months when I'm forced to take maternity leave, because I'm too fat to walk, that everything is going to be fine. Even though I'll be on maternity leave preparing for Blip's arrival, then having Blip and caring for him, I still plan on being kept in the loop. After all, I will be returning to work when the baby's older, not full-time but still enough to earn my part in our finances. Grey Publishing will be in my name eventually, the last thing I want to happen is for things to hit the fan as soon as my name is on the door.

I head straight to my office, bypassing a tonne of people asking for my input – seriously, how does Christian do this? How does he cope with being pestered all the time? I simply smile at them and ask them to refer to their department leader, or if necessary Danielle, knowing she'll dissect everything on my behalf and summarise in our weekly meeting. I settle into my chair and glance over the piles of papers all over my desk, _where do I start?_ Before I can grab the first of the nearest pile Hannah comes into my office, bringing a cup of tea and some files.

"Morning Ana!" She smiles showing off her morning person persona, something I am envious of. "I've got your tea, and here are my notes from those manuscripts you gave me yesterday." I take the files, setting them on top of the now never-ending amount of work, before taking the tea.

"Thank you Hannah. I'll check over these, in the meantime can you hold all of my calls? I've got so much to do today."

"Of course, remember you have an appointment at three."

"Yes, I know. I'll be leaving at two. You know the drill?"

"Sure, Ms Wilkes unless it's you they need." I smile at her, I'm glad I have a team who are this good to me, accommodating me. Though I hazard a guess that the majority of the time it is down to my affiliation with the boss, rather than my skills as an Editor.

She leaves me to my abundance of papers, closing the door her. I power up my computer to flick through some of the emails I will have acquired since yesterday. I'm stunned to find that this morning there are only four to deal with. One of them is from the author I met with last night, just a brief confirmation of some of the details we discussed and a 'warm-hearted thank you'. I power back a reply, thanking him for deciding to work with us. I have a mini firework display going off inside me knowing that I've just clinched another up and coming author, who I am positive will go far. Christian will be proud! The next two emails are reminders from Danielle about the meeting on Friday; the whole board will be in situ for it. It'll be the quarterly meeting to check the stats and progress. The last email is what I was expecting. I knew I would receive something considering I was alone this morning when I woke.

* * *

**From: Christian Grey**

**Subject: Guilty**

**Date: 31st October 2011 11:43:12AM**

**To: Anastasia Grey**

To my loving Wife,

I feel impeccably guilty for leaving you this morning, especially after last night I claimed I had no meetings until this afternoon. I received a call first thing from Andrea - impromptu meeting with one of the bosses from that shipping yard. He's in Seattle for today only, therefore this was the only chance I had to clinch things with him. Please accept my apologies. I will make it up to you.

I hope this morning was better for you.

Remember we have our appointment with Dr Greene at three today. I will meet you at two.

I love you.

Take things easy. Please.

X

Christian Grey

Sorry Husband & CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

I did miss him this morning, though I am not too disheartened that he wasn't there. As much as I love waking up in his arms, or more often than not with him sprawled across my stomach, holding me down, I know that on occasion he has breakfast meetings that he cannot possibly get out of. I tap out a reply to him.

* * *

**From: Anastasia Grey**

**Subject: Understanding and Dutiful Wife**

**Date: 31st October 2011 12:05:49PM**

**To: Christian Grey**

Dear Guilty,

Firstly, I accept your apologies, though you should take note that they are not needed. This is not the first early start you've had and I sincerely doubt it will be the last. You don't need to apologise for earning a living, especially now that we'll have another mouth to feed.

You can make it up to me tonight. I like the idea of you, me, Blip, chocolate pudding and a stupid movie.

I have remembered. You'll pick me up? Can we go for something to eat afterwards?

This morning was the same as every other morning: running to empty my body down the porcelain, feeling like hell, and then wolfing down my breakfast. I think I broke a new record this morning.

I will take it easy, though the amount of work on my desk is slightly disturbing.

I love you too.

Ana and Blip.

xxx

Anastasia Grey

Loving Wife & Editor, Grey Publishing Ltd.

I send the email and turn to focus myself on my work. I flick through the files Hannah gave me, approving her work and signing it off, before I hear the ping of an incoming message.

* * *

**From: Christian Grey**

**Subject: Still feeling guilty…**

**Date: 31st October 2011 12:11:12PM**

**To: Anastasia Grey**

…No matter what you say. I will make it up to you. Your idea sounds perfect, however I feel that I should remind you, knowing how hectic you've been, that we have already agreed to attend Mia's Halloween party this evening. If you want to skip it we can, I'd much rather settle for your expectations of this evening.

Chocolate pudding? I can do a lot with that.

Of course, I'll pick you up. I thought we'd go solo, I'll bring the R8. I do like your car, Mrs Grey.

Maybe you should pass some of the work onto your second? That's what they're there for. I do not want you stressing over things.

I'm counting down until two o'clock, when I can hold you in my arms again.

X

Christian Grey

Love-struck Husband & CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

Shit, I'd totally forgotten about Mia's party. She pretty much threw a fit when Christian and I exchanged looks over dinner when she announced her ideas, and I know that she'll have a full blown psychotic episode if we don't turn up.

* * *

**From: Anastasia Grey**

**Subject: Forgetful**

**Date: 31st October 2011 12:14:36PM **

**To: Christian Grey**

Seriously, I think I have baby brain already. Thank you for the reminder, I had completely forgotten about Mia's party. In fact, I hadn't even realised that today is Halloween. What will the party entail? Is there a dress code?

I know that you can do a lot with Chocolate pudding, Mr Grey. I recall the last time vividly, though I doubt Mrs Jones enjoyed the clean-up – those sheets were completely ruined!

I too like MY R8, and I love that you enjoy driving MY car. I would love it if I were allowed to drive MY own car for a change. I am pregnant not ill. Being pregnant may have caused me some memory problems, but I can assure you, Sir, that my driving skills are still intact.

I look forward to seeing you too. More so to our appointment, I cannot wait to see Blip.

Now let me work, otherwise I'll never leave this office!

Ana

xx

P.S I do delegate my work when necessary; however I prefer to take a 'hands on' approach. Something I believe you are familiar with?

Anastasia Grey

Busy and Now Hungry Editor, Grey Publishing Ltd.

**From: Christian Grey**

**Subject: I'm trying…**

**Date: 31st October 2011 12:18:54PM **

**To: Anastasia Grey**

…To protect you. I just want to keep you and Blip safe, if that means you having to be driven around then so be it. I will protect you.

Yes, Mia has specifically insisted on a fancy dress theme. She has already suggested sent over a list outlining the theme for the party, would you like me to pick something out for you?

I am familiar with the hands on approach, however I hope you are not too hands on. I would be very jealous otherwise; I think you are familiar with this?

Now, I must get back to the world of mergers and acquisitions.

Remember to eat lunch.

C

X

Christian Grey

Insistent Husband, Father-to-be & CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

I scowl at his email. I know he means well, but sometimes I feel it is unnecessary. Do normal husbands insist on their wives having an entourage and chauffer? Who the hell am I kidding? Christian isn't a normal husband! Nothing about him is normal. He's, by his own admission, fifty shades of fucked up. My fifty shades. Though I love this about him, yes I admit there are things in his past that I would happily change – bitch troll, his birth mother and the 15 – but that's part of him. He is a different person with me, different to who he was before he met me. He tells me frequently that there are three women in his life who saved him: Grace, who adopted him and saved him from his treacherous early childhood; Mia, who brought him out of his shell and got him talking after two years of silence; then there's me, I showed him love, true love, and a life away from the red room of pain, and into a life of vanilla with kinky fuckery thrown in. He gave up a lot to be with me, and I had doubts for a long time whether I was enough for him. Just recently I have started believing him when he says that I am; I see it in his eyes that he loves me and Blip. Knowing he loves Blip as I do, is what I needed most, especially after how he reacted when I told him. I have no idea what I would have done if he never came back, or if he made me choose. I love them both, and I haven't even met the one burrowed inside me.

* * *

**From: Anastasia Grey**

**Subject: I know you are.**

**Date: 31st October 2011 12:23:10PM**

**To: Christian Grey**

I know why you do it, but it still doesn't mean I agree with your decisions. I respect you for them though, as I will do anything in my power to keep us safe. All of us.

Can you pick for me? I doubt I have the time or the energy to fret over what nonsense Mia has picked out for this evening.

I do recall some memory of your jealously over such silly things. My behind seems to recall it as well.

I too need to get on with work.

See you at two.

Love,

YOUR Ana

xxx

Anastasia Grey

More than Love-struck Editor, Grey Publishing Ltd.

I close my emails knowing that Christian is unlikely to message me back anytime soon. Picking up where I left off I grab two of the biggest piles of papers intent of getting through them.

Hannah pops in to drop off my lunch, an organic vegetable wrap from the deli down the street, along with some Orange juice. I thank her but she gathers I am in over my head right now and leaves me be. It's nice to not have my phone ringing, or to be interrupted.

By 1 o'clock I've finished reading through everything, and have signed off the papers on my desk, sifted through a hefty manuscript from an author we've worked with before, making notes of issues I have with the piece, which will need discussing before contracts are signed. I'm surprised with my progress, sitting back in my chair grinning to myself. _This is why you're in charge._ Taking a sip from my juice I sit forward once more and open up my calendar to check my schedule for this week – just a few meetings later in the week, nothing too stressful.

I'm torn from the computer by a knock at my door.

"Come in!" I shout to whomever is outside, calling them to enter.

"Mrs Grey."

Christian strolls in all Adonis like, wearing his grey suit trousers that hang perfectly from his hips, with his white shirt tucked in. His shirt is open at the collar and his sleeves are rolled up. He's carrying his suit jacket which is flung over his shoulder. My inner goddess sprints across the room, jumping him and taking him right here, right now, but the pregnant woman in me is more reserved, instead choosing not to move too suddenly in case the sickness makes an unwelcome return.

"Mr Grey." I reply to him, staying seated in my chair as he saunters over to me, dipping as his reaches me to bring his lips to mine. I can feel the oh too familiar muscles deep in my pelvis clenching as he slides his tongue into my mouth teasing mine, exploring me.

As he pulls away, returning to an upright stance, I groan at him. I don't think I could ever have enough of him.

"Are you ready, baby?"

"Which one of us are you referring to?" I smirk at him, resting my hand on my stomach.

He grins back, stepping forward, placing his hand over mine.

"Both of you."

"Yes, just need to grab my bag and we can go."

On the way out of my office Christian holds my door open, then taking my hand proudly escorting me around the room. He holds me as if I am a trophy; I flush at some of the gazes we receive – mainly women jealous of me, jealous of us. Everyone loves my fifty.

"See you tomorrow Hannah." I smile as I pass her desk on the way out.

"Good bye Ana. Mr Grey." She blushes as she looks up from me to him. I roll my eyes, yet another girl falling at his feet.

"Hannah." He smiles to her. He's in a good mood today. I prefer it when Christian's like this. This is the Christian I love the most. The Christian who's in love.


	2. Chapter 2

"Ana."

I stand up hearing my name called, smoothing my dress down and grabbing my bag. I glance down at Christian; he's still fixed to the chair. I hold my hand out to him, encouraging him to stand.

"Baby, it's time." I smile at him. His brow lowers and his face drops slightly, his lips pressing into a hard line.

After a few seconds he stands, taking my hand.

"I'm sorry. I'm just a little nervous." He whispers into my ear as he pulls me close to him. I breathe in his smell, the mix of body wash and Christian.

"I know. I'm nervous too. Come on, let's go." I look up at him, planting a gentle kiss on his cheek before leading him into the doctor's office.

As we enter, I see a nurse setting a gown on the bed and pulling the sonogram machine towards the chair positioned at the end of the bed, near the stirrups.

"Mrs Grey?" She looks over at me, after checking the forms in her hand.

"Yes." I whisper back at her. Being in the room, seeing the equipment, smelling the disinfectant, it all brings my nerves to the point of breakdown. I feel Christian's fingers lock between mine, squeezing. I glance up at him through my lashes, he smiles, comforting me. We're in this together.

"Okay, Mrs Grey. I'll need you to change into this gown and get up on the bed. Dr Greene will be in to see you shortly." I smile nervously at her. She makes her way out of the room. She's an older woman, maybe late fifties. She has a New York accent and smells of perfume and cigarettes. Perfect smell for a health care professional.

I glance around at the posters on the walls. Posters of what happens during birth, how my body is going to change and posters of small babies. They really do make me feel worse. I lean down, putting my bag on the floor, and pick up the gown. I turn to head to the en-suite, and catch Christian in the corner of my eye. He's examining the posters I was looking at before, no doubt he'll be panicking inside; they really are quite scary and daunting. What have we got ourselves into?

Emerging from the bathroom I pull the gown around myself, closing the open back. I steadily climb up onto the bed, sliding down slightly in preparation for the examination. Glancing over to Christian, who's seated beside me, I notice he's messing around on his BlackBerry. His brow furrows; he looks a bit angry over something.

"Christian…" I looks up straight away, that looks still etched on his face. "Baby, is something wrong?" I'm starting to worry now.

"It's nothing." He presses a few more keys before shoving it into his trouser pocket.

"Baby, tell me what's up." I whisper to him as he grabs my hand, pulling it to his mouth.

"It's nothing for you to worry about. I promise." I smiles, though it doesn't reach his eyes. He's hiding something from me. _He's always hiding things from you_.

I want to press him more but with perfect timing Dr Greene enters.

She's quick with her examination, noting how uncomfortable Christian is. He squeezes my hand every time she touches me; aren't I the one who's supposed to be squeezing his hand? With the all clear she moves onto the scan. I look over to Christian as she sets up the scanner. His eyes widen when he sees the probe. Yes, I've been here before, I know exactly where that goes.

"Ready, Ana. Remember, it's a transvaginal scan just like last time?"

"Sure, go ahead." I reply gingerly; this isn't the most pleasant of experiences.

Squeezing onto his hand as she inserts it, I try to steady my breath. _It'll be over in a little while_. I repeat to myself trying to detract my mind from the uncomfortable probing. _Suck it up_, my subconscious screams at me over her copy of Harpers Bazar, _You got knocked up, take the consequences of your actions_!

"There we go. Perfect shot."

Both Christian and I sit forward staring at the small screen, at the black, white and grey picture in front of us. There he is. He looks like a baby now. Baby Grey. I feel the tears begin to fall down my face.

"Would you like a copy?" Dr Greene smiles to us. She's got to be used to this by now.

"Can we have 8 copies please?" Christian speaks up. His voice is croaky and broken.

"Of course Mr Grey. Ana, if you'd like to get dressed, I'll grab those prints for you and book you in for your next scan."

She leaves us swiftly. Wow. It all seems so much more real now. I mean, I know I'm pregnant, and I know I have a baby growing inside me, but seeing him now, looking like a real baby and not a blob, the realisation hits me that in just six months he's going to be here, in my arms. It sort of frightens me. We have so much to plan: my maternity leave, we have the move to the new house coming up; we have to think about birthing plans and what we're going to do if I go into labour whilst on the interstate! A thousand things flit through my mind in the space of ten seconds, but whilst I'm scared, I'm also excited and over the moon knowing that we're going to be parents, we'll have made him. I'll have brought him into the world. He'll be ours.

"You know, he may be a girl." Christian tears me from my thoughts, reading my mind like he usually does.

"I know. I don't care. I just want Blip here. Now."

"I know baby, I do too. Seeing him puts everything into perspective. I love you so much, Ana." He leans forwards, holding my head in his hands, and kisses me furiously. I moan into his mouth, _is it wrong to do this here, in the doctor's office_?

Christian stands, trailing his hand down my body, skimming my breasts before setting his palm flat on my lower abdomen.

"And I love you too." He whispers to Blip. I've heard him in the mornings, whilst I'm pretending to be asleep, talking to Blip. I could burst into tears every time he does it. Christian is going to be an amazing father, I know he doubts himself from time to time, but I know he will. How can he not be?

* * *

"Are you going to stare at that forever?" I grin over to Christian; he's been holding the scan in his hand since we left the office, only letting it go whilst driving us to get something to eat.

"Just until he is here, then I'll be staring at him." He smirks, kisses the scan before placing it in his wallet. I roll my eyes at him, getting back into my food.

"I hope you didn't just roll your eyes at me?" I slowly raise my eye-line until I reach his; his eyebrow is raised in that sexy Christian way. Everything south of me quivers and clenches.

"Has _Sir_ forgotten that I'm with child now?" I toy with the food on my fork, raising it to my lips, before wrapping my lips around it and sucking on the fork slightly.

"You think that'll stop me?"

"I know it won't. I quite like it though, especially what follows it." I smirk at him, deterring my gaze from him. I'm going to self-combust at any moment, as I feel those muscles tighten further. I know I'm ready for him, I can feel it. I squeeze my thighs and for a second imagine his tongue running along my thigh, reaching my sex. Licking, flicking and suckling.

"Mrs Grey, I do believe you're squirming." Ah, he knows.

"Well, maybe we should leave. I do believe we have already christened the R8 once before? I think it's time we did it again, don't you?"

"As much as I'd love to do that, you should finish your plate. I know what you get like when you're hungry. Hungry Ana isn't as delectable as 'I'm coming' Ana."

God, I feel a spasm and tightening flick through my stomach. My inner goddess is doing somersaults across the tables in the restaurant. I'm glad the tables in here are seated a fair distance away from one another, I can imagine Christian and I would put a few people off their dinner otherwise.

"All I seem to be doing these days is eating. I'm going to be the size of a house by the time Blip gets here." I look down at my stomach, checking that I haven't popped already. I can't imagine it'd be much longer before I'll be showing, what with the amount of food I've been packing away.

"I like that you're eating. I'd keep you pregnant every day of the rest of our lives if it means you'll eat properly."

"Well I can't exactly ignore my own personal alarm clock down here. He tells me when to eat and when to get up in the morning. Though, the wake-up call I can do without."

"Me too. I mean, Christ Ana, I love you, but hearing you retch first thing in the morning isn't exactly pleasant."

"Here's to hoping that's the last of it!" I raise my water to him before downing it.

Christian pays for dinner and we walk hand in hand back to the car. He opens the passenger door for me and I scowl at him as he closes it for me once I'm settled in. I really do love this car, it's my favourite car out of all the ones he has, and it's mine. It's my car and I've driven it a handful of times. The sooner this baby comes the better, hopefully then I'll get to drive again!

He slides into the driver's seat and pulls out of the parking bay. The sweet sounds of Coldplay flood the car. I was never partial to Coldplay before. I mean Kate loves them, and used to play them non-stop on a Saturday when we were in college. I used to wake up to them and fall asleep to them. I never grew to love them until Christian brought me my iPad, and composed a playlist for me which evidently included Coldplay. I now love them; their lyrics have pertinence in my life. Yesterday I started compiling a playlist for Blip. I read online that music stimulates baby in-utero, promoting movements and helps to calm them. I have no doubt that Baby Grey will love music, just as I have no doubt that Christian will insist on him learning an instrument.

Christian hums to the music as he drives towards home. I could sit here looking at him all day. He looks young; he looks his age right now – a carefree husband and father-to-be, not a stressed out billionaire, CEO of one of the top companies in the United States.

"So, the party tonight? Did you pick out the outfits?"

"Yes, I did. Mia sent over a rather questionable list of suggestions. I chose the most suitable."

"Is this a public party or a private family gathering?"

"Do you mean, is there going to be photographers?" he glances over raising his eyebrow.

"Yes."

"No, it's family, friends and a few acquaintances. Private, baby."

Thank God, I relax in my seat knowing that tonight isn't going to be a formal who-ha of smiling at photographers as they shove their ridiculous cameras in my face, yelling 'Mrs Grey, Mrs Grey!'

"So, what did you choose?"

"You'll have to wait and see. Always eager, Mrs Grey." I see his mouth rise into a smirk, but his eyes are fixated on the road ahead.

Putting his foot down on the gas we soon manoeuvre the traffic and get home, back to our apartment.

Both Christian and I stand a far distance away from one another in the elevator, knowing that elevators do something to people. I don't think Taylor would fall for the 'it stalled' excuse again, the last time he barely believed it, though I can't blame him, what with my flushed cheeks and just fucked hair. It's okay for Christian his hair always looks just fucked. _That's because usually he is_. I smile to myself, it's true Christian and I are like wild animals. If we had our own way, we'd be held up inside 24/7 spending every waking minute savouring one another. I like the idea of that.

The lift opens, and Taylor is dutifully awaiting our arrival. Taylor and Christian always have a brief meeting when we arrive home from work; a debrief of the days events.

"Mrs Grey." Taylor smiles at me as I walk through the foyer, making my way towards our bedroom.

"Ana, I'll be a little while. Your outfit is laid out of the bed, we're leaving in an hour." Christian calls to me as he steps into his office with Taylor.

"Okay."

As I step into the bedroom, dumping my bag on the floor near the dresser, I notice a dress bag on the bed. I walk over to it, intrigued as to what theme Mia has chosen for this evening. I don't recognise the name on the bag, it's not from Neimans. I grab the hanger and walk over to the bathroom, to rest it on the door frame. Slowly unzipping the bag I get a glimpse of my outfit for this evening. I stand back, shocked by what I've just seen. I am really wearing this?


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: The characters in this story are those represented in Fifty Shades Trilogy, therefore they remain the property of E L James. The plot and themes of this story are purely my own. I am in no way affliated with James. No copyright infringment is intended.**

I apologise for any spelling or grammatical errors in this chapter, I have desperately tried to finish this one for you and at the moment in England it is 1.42am! I needed to get through this part in order to make way for the next couple of chapters, where things are going to start happening.

I hope you enjoy it, and I look forward to any feedback I get from you!

Thank you :)

* * *

This has to be joke. It has to be. I stand there staring at the dress hanging on the door frame. I have no idea what I am more surprised with: the theme Mia has chosen for this evening, or that this is the outfit Christian deemed the 'most suitable'.

I glance over to the door and notice a shoe box on the floor, next to the dresser. I walk over and pick it up, I assume Christian has chosen these to match the dress. I open it up to find a pair of Louboutins matching the colour of the dress. They're covered in tiny gems, reflecting the light beautifully, though I don't see the purpose, no one is going to see the shoes under the mass of that dress. Shaking my head over the whole outfit I sit down on the bed, more so to rest after my tiring day. Even though I was only at the office for a few hours, I worked my ass off trying to get things done. I reach down into my purse and take out my BlackBerry, firing up a text to Kate.

*YOU COMING TO MIA'S PARTY TONIGHT? A X*

She replies quickly.

*OF COURSE! LIKE I'D MISS THIS! IT'S GONNA BE EPIC! XX*

Of course Kate would like this, she's always game for a party - wherever there's music and alcohol, you'll find her in the mix somewhere. I dread to imagine what Kate and Elliot are going to arrive as. I dread to think what Christian is going to wear. I still have no clue what my outfit is supposed to be, let alone how he'd fit in as my companion. I lie back on the bed savouring a few Ana moments, before I hear footsteps echo through the hall.

As I sit up I see Christian standing in the doorway. His shirt untucked and hanging loose from his waist, and he stands there barefoot. There is just something about his bare feet that drives me crazy; maybe it's those times in the playroom, where all I can are his feet when he enters the room. Oh, those jeans. The faded and ripped jeans, hanging from his hips with the unbutton undone, his happy trail visible beneath it. I bite my lip thinking about the amazing times we've spent in there. Christian has refused to take me in there since finding out about the pregnancy. I hope that now we've reached three months, and got through the most 'at risk' stage of pregnancy, he'll loosen the reigns, realise I'm not made of glass, and fulfill my kinky needs. After all, he was the one who brought me into this lifestyle.

"Would you care to explain _that_ to me?" I point over to the dress, emphasising my words to show my partial confusion and worry over the whole situation.

"Haven't you worked it out yet?" He walks over to me, kneeling in front of me, resting his hands on my knees.

"Well, I'm guessing by the looks of it that Mia has chosen some sort of Disney theme?"

He laughs, grinning up at me. "Well, this is Mia we're talking about. How you figured out which one?"

I shake my head. I have little memory of a lot of the Disney movies I watched when I was younger. I vaguely recall Cinderella and the Little Mermaid. I'm glad Christian hasn't chosen an Aerial costume, though I doubt whether he'd allow me to leave the house in such little clothing. I know he wouldn't!

"Well, tonight my love, you'll be Belle. The Belle of the ball. From the Beauty and the Beast." He smiles up at me, looking through his long lashes.

My heart sinks into my stomach, and tears well up in my eyes.

"Christian, I wish you wouldn't do this." I can't stop the tears falling down my face, hitting the backs of my hands as they land in my lap.

He leaps up and embraces me, pulling me tight into his hold. I try to calm my breathing, but fail.

"Oh Ana, why are you crying?" He whispers into my ear, as I nuzzle against his neck.

"Because... If I'm the beauty, then that means you... you're the beast." I gasp in a final attempt to control myself. "Why do you always see the worst in yourself?"

"Ana, my sweet Ana. Firstly, I chose this because it was the only one on the list Mia sent that didn't have me scream knowing you'd hate it and that I would never allow you to leave the apartment looking like that. But more importantly, baby -" he pulls away from my slightly to sit on the bed beside me, he maintains his hold with his hands cupping the back of my neck. "You are the beauty. You are the only beauty. You're my beauty. By default that makes me the beast. Which is apt, I have caused you a lot of pain. I hurt you in so many ways, with my past and how I reacted to Blip. I am monster. Yet you, you see past that. You see me, through all of the fucked up Christian, and you still love me."

I look up into his grey eyes; they're wide and sincere. I stare into the eyes of a man who will possibly never believe in himself, and always see himself as the bad guy and not a victim of others dispicable actions. I reach up to touch his face, stroking his cheek with my fingers. He closes his eyes relishing my touch.

"Thank you." I whisper to him, leaning closer to kiss him.

"No, I should be the one thanking you. For everything you have given me, and what you're going to give me." I smile as we both instinctively look down at my stomach.

I love sharing these moments with him; the moments when it's just us. No worrying about work or family; no having to concern ourselves with security or the fact that the press are fascinated with our lives. Just him and me, in our little bubble, cut off from the rest of the world. Two hearts beating as one. Three if you count Blips heart beat, though his runs faster than ours. Hearing him today put my mind at ease. I kept positive all morning, thinking that everything was going to be fine, but something always pulls you back, making you realise that in that moment the doctor could easily turn around and say 'I'm sorry Mrs Grey, but there's no heartbeat'. Hearing his little heart beating a rocket speed was the best thing I have never heard in my life. I know that the only thing that can possibly top that is hearing his cry for the first time.

"Come, you need to get ready." Christians stands from the bed, pulling me up to my feet.

"Yes, I do. I might need some help getting into the dress. It doesn't have a corset does it?" I question nervously.

"No, I told them that you'd need one without. They didn't ask why, though I am bursting to scream it from the roof." I grin at him. Tonight we hope to tell his family that we are pregnant, but somehow I think that with the party we'll need to wait for another day.

"I know, I can't wait to tell them either. But maybe we should leave it for tonight?"

"I guess, I prefer the idea of just our families knowing. They'll be some familiar faces there tonight baby, and some not so familiar. Mainly friends of the family, Mom and Dad's colleagues."

"Cannot wait." I roll my eyes at him.

"Now Mrs Grey, I've already told you once today about rolling your eyes at me. I do believe this calls for punishment." He stares down at me, already in his dominant Christian mode.

I squeal in anticipation as he slams the bedroom door shut. I stand there glued to the floor awaiting his return. He walks agonisingly slowly towards me, regarding me passively, before setting himself on the bed.

"Come. Here. Now." He glares at me, his eyes red with fire. I do everything in my power to control myself. I can feel the stirring already, deep down inside me.

I shuffle over towards him, assuming the correct position - standing behind his legs, as he wraps his around mine, flopping the top half of my body onto the mattress, holding me in place with his forearm on my back.

He lifts my dress to expose my behind; I'm grateful I decided to wear my french lace panties this morning. He rubs me in circular motions, kneading my skin. Before I know it he slides his hand under my panties, pulling them down my legs.

"Now, you've rolled your eyes at me twice today, Anastasia. That warrants two punishments, does it not?" He lifts his hand and spanks me square on my behind, causing me jolt forward, screaming out from the slap.

"Yes." I breathe to him as he rubs my behind, soothing the sting from his touch.

"Yes, what?" He slaps me again, harder.

"SIR!" I scream out at him. "Yes, Sir."

"That's right -" he breathes heavily, rubbing my skin before slapping me again. "I think you deserve ten. That's three. Now count the rest."

I scream out each time as he slaps me hard on my behind. As I reach ten I scream out louder than before, so loud I get feel my voice breaking under the strain. I can feel myself getting wet. I throb and quiver, needing him. I need him in me.

"Yes, Ana." He groans as he inserts his finger inside me, circling and sending me over the edge.

I call out his name as I come furiously as he continues his assault. The spasms cause my walls to clench hold of his fingers, holding him inside me.

Completely spent, I collapse onto the mattress unable to move. Christian pulls his long fingers out of me, sending a further jolt deep inside my stomach. He pulls my legs out of his hold and moves me further onto the bed, pulling up my panties and shuffling my dress down over my, now raw, behind.

"Have you learnt your lesson?" He groans at me, lying down beside me so we are face to face.

Panting, I look up at him. "No, I know I'll do it again Sir, I'll do it again, and again, and again." I giggle as he grins at me.

I calm myself, and regulate my erratic breathing. I glance up at him as he rises from the bed.

"Now, Mrs Grey. You really do need to get ready, or else we'll be late." I follow suit and rise from the bed. I stumble to my feet and with my legs still like jello from my climax, I make my way past him in the direction of my dress.

I turn to look at him as I enter the bathroom. He suckles on his fingers, smirking at me. "Mighty fine, Mrs Grey. Mighty fine!" I shut the door on him, laughing hysterically. I know that if I stand there much longer, looking at him, we really wont be leaving the apartment tonight.

* * *

"Christian, baby?" I turn to face him as he closes the car door behind me. He helped me get out the car due to the sheer weight of this dress. It's gold, shimmering under the lights out the front of the Grey house. Mia and Grace always seem to have lanterns outside whenever there is any sort of gathering; they shine like moons, guiding the way to the house, truly setting a magical feeling for the night. My dress is long, covering my feet and the Louboutins. Christian was right, it has no corset, but it does have a lace up back - something that Christian made quick work of doing up. I shake thinking of how long it'll take him to get me out of it later. I wonder whether we'll make a trip to his childhood bedroom this evening. The last time we were up there was the masquerade ball, the benefit in aid of Coping Together. I bite down on my lip thinking back to that night; the silver balls, the auction and the dancing.

"Yes?" He startles me from my carnal thoughts.

"How am I going to get around the no drinking tonight? I have exhausted every single excuse out there, and we're not going to tell them tonight."

"We'll just say we're working tomorrow. Baby, come on, it's Monday, everyone is going to have work tomorrow. No one is going to be drinking much tonight. I won't be."

"You won't?"

"No, I have an important phone call scheduled for 3am. It's Tokyo. I need a clear mind."

3am? Shit, that means I'll be alone in bed until God knows what time. Christian and I are the same in that we both prefer to fall asleep in each others arms, though he prefers it more so to suppress his nightmares. He hasn't had a nightmare for a while now. It brings back the darkness when I recall it.

I had woken up in the middle of the night needing the bathroom. I slid out of his arms, trying not to wake up, and crept along the bedroom to the bathroom. After doing what I had to do, I washed my hands and splashed my still bruised face with water. It was about two weeks after the Hyde incident; that jerk hit me hard across the face with the butt of his gun! I was looking up into the mirror at my various bruises when I heard him. He was throwing himself all around the bed, kicking the sheets off him. He was screaming, screaming an ear piercing scream. A scream of sheer pain. I ran out of the bathroom to him, jumping across the bed to reach up and grab him.

"Christian! Wake up! Baby!" I screamed at him, desperate to wake him, to pull him from his nightmare. He jolted up in my arms, sweating all over and breathing heavily and fast.

"Ana!" He launched forward pulling me into his arms, squeezing me into him. I ignored the pain in my chest and concentrated on him.

"Baby, it's okay. It was just a dream baby." I held him for almost an hour. I thought I felt him crying at one point, but I can't be sure.

He never told me what the nightmare was about, but this one was different to the others. His other nightmares have always been about his childhood: his early childhood with the crack whore and her pimp. His screams are deep from within his chest when he remembers those events. Tonight was different. This was as if he was being stabbed; as if a blade was tearing his skin open and the screams were escaping from the gaping wound. He didn't need to tell me what it was about, I knew already. It was about me. It was over what Jack did to me. It was a 'what if' dream.

As we entered the house we were greeted by Grace and Carrick.

"Ana, darling." Grace is dressed in a stunning grey-blue gown, floor length and delicate, made from silk. Her hair is pulled back into an up style, held in place by silver jeweled pins. She looks beautiful and graceful.

"Ana, dear." Carrick matches Grace perfectly, wearing a tuxedo with a waistcoat matching the colour of Grace's dress. The jacket has a long tail, as does Christian's - though his waistcoat and tie are gold, matching my dress.

"You look amazing!" I say to them after pulling out of their embrace. "Who're you supposed to be?"

"King and Queen of the Castle. No specific role." Grace smiles at me. I can tell from her face that the theme of tonight's party is not one that sits well with her. I can imagine that her and Mia have had a few words over this. "What about you dear? You look stunning as always."

"The Beauty and the Beast." Christian tightens his arm around my waist, pulling me close to him.

Grace and Carrick smile reservedly at us, thinking the same as I do - that Christian is too negative about himself. None of us can understand truly why he fails to see what we do. We know the reasons why, but still after all this time and the amount of love we gets from us, it's still a mystery that he can't open his eyes and see the Christian that we see. The loving and caring Christian.

We circulate the room passing several other characters, Christian nods at some of them though I have no clue who they are. I doubt there are of significance as we simply pass them without any intention of striking up a conversation. Eventually we spot Kate and Elliot in the corner of the room. They are easy to spot: the two blondes all over each other. They pull apart when we reach them, both of them shocked by my attire.

"Seriously, stop staring! I didn't choose it, he did!" I elbow Christian in the ribs, he feigns injury before chuckling to himself.

"Ana! You look amazing!" Kate lunges forward grabbing me, and pulling me close for a hug. Elliot kisses me on the cheek, yet another attempt at teasing Christian. I swear he'll never grow up, and he's meant to be the older brother.

Kate is wearing a dress similar in style to me own. Long and fitted at the waist, then flowing out into a full skirt. Hers is a mixture of red's and pink's, which match her skin tone perfectly. I think back to my wedding day; she was wearing her pale pink maid of honor dress. She looked amazing in it and she looks amazing tonight.

"Let me guess, Rapunzel?" I raise my eyebrow to her as she nods furiously.

"You know me, I always wanted to be her. I mean, come on, she has THE best hair in the world!"

We all fall apart laughing, sharing jokes from Elliot suggesting that perhaps Christian should have arrived wearing a Chew-Bacca costume, to suit the role of the Beast more appropriately. I in turn got my own back, on Christian's behalf, suggesting that Elliot should have opted to come as Shrek. Kate spat out her Champagne almost soaking both hers and my dresses in the process, laughing hysterically. Christian and I continued to make our way around the room to get away from them, things could get a bit heated. Elliot with alcohol in his system often results in him teasing Christian until he snaps.

An orchestra plays romantic violin pieces which reverberates throughout the room, adding to the fantasy of this evening. There are so many different Disney characters here, I imagine Mia has made sure that no two people turn up in the same outfit - that probably explains her list.

Christian kindly refuses the Champagne flutes that continue make an appearance in our faces. We slide around the room, stopping occasionally to talk to some of Carrick's work colleagues who remember Christian as a tear-away teenager, commenting on how strong and how much of a gentleman he is now. One of their wives congratulates me on being able to tie him down and tame him, if only she knew the real Christian - he's the one who ties you down! About half way the evening we finally see Mia in the middle of the crowds. Christian guides me over to his sister, who's dancing rather crazily with Ethan in toe. I try to hold back my laughs as I look at them; Mia is wearing a short, green cocktail dress and flats, with fur balls on top. Ethan accompanies her wearing a green shirt and tights to match. Ethan is wearing tights! My subconscious is rolling around the floor hyperventilating at the sight of him in tights! He looks over to me giving me a 'help me', worried look. It's evident that Mia is behind this, she is always behind everything. She practically organised my whole wedding for crying outloud! Mia and Ethan have arrived as Tinkerbell and Peter Pan; Christian tells me that Mia was obsessed with J.M Barrie's Peter Pan as a child, she'd beg Carrick to carry her around the room so she could fly just like Tinkerbell. I well up thinking of Christian doing that with our children.

The evening passes in a blur, my eyelids become heavier and I feel my body slowly failing me. I turn to Christian and he instinctively knows that it is time for us to make our exit. He pulls out his BlackBerry and calls Taylor to bring the car to the front of the house, as I search the room for his parents.

I spot Grace standing over by the doors to the kitchen, along with Carrick. She looks angry, as does Carrick. I've never really seen them angry, especially Carrick. The only time I have ever seen Grace with a look as cold as she is wearing right now, was the night of Christian's birthday celebrations, when she found out about his past, and what _she_ did to him. I can't read their lips but I gather that all is not well in the Trevelyan-Grey household tonight. I leave Christian's side as he continues to talk to Taylor - he's receiving an update from the security team. We made the decision to only have Taylor and Sawyer accompany us tonight. He looks up at me beckoning me to go and speak to his parents. I make my slowly towards my in-laws, careful not to trip over my dress or stumble in my heels. I wouldn't even be able to blame alcohol if I did, but I worry more about Blip. I'm a lot more careful now that I have Blip. Like I said to Christian earlier today, I will do anything in my power to protect my family. To protect my baby and my husband. I finally get to them as their discussion seems winds down, acknowledging that I am making my way over to them. Grace offers a weak smile to me, pointing out to Carrick that they are about to be joined, putting a hold on their conversation. Though I am a short distance from them, I have struggled to hear them over the orchestra, but I catch onto the last part of their converstation. One word rings through my ears, slapping me hard across the face. One name. _Elena_.


	4. Chapter 4

**Wow! Thank you guys so much for your kind reviews! Knowing that you are enjoying it, understanding it and looking forward to the next chapters really spurs me on! Re-reading what I have already done I have noticed a few errors, I hope these do not deter from the story too much. I will be more prudent in spell checking and proof-reading before I submit! **

**Please keep the reviews coming in, I enjoy reading them as they show me that I'm doing the story justice.**

**I hope you don't feel as if the party was too rushed! Please note that I will be touching on this more later, both in this chapter and in later ones!**

**Disclaimer: The characters portrayed in this story are those reflected in E L James's 'Fifty Shades Trilogy' therefore they are rightfully her property. The plot and themes are those of the author. The author is in no way affliated with James or any others. No copyright infringment is intended.**

**I hope you enjoy! Keeping reviewing! **

**Thank you :)**

* * *

Elena?

I stop dead in my tracks. Why are they talking about her? No one has even mentioned her name for months. Grace refuses to even acknowledge her existence after what she did to Christian, that and when she found out he ended up with her the night he stormed off. I remember when I was in hospital, unconscious in my coma, that they had stern words over what had happened. It still amazes me that I could hear what was going on around me, even though my body had shut down - I guess when doctor's say that the patient might be able to hear you, it's true! I'm proof of that! It helps to know that when Ray was in hospital he could hear me, though he hasn't brought up the plentiful fishing trips I promised him we'd go on.

I can feel my heart racing. How is it just the sound of her name causes this much angst and horror in my body? _You hate her_!

"Ana, darling." Grace turns to face me, holding out her arms ready for me to embrace her. I can't move, stuck fast to the floor. I stare helplessly at her; her eyes are wide and empty. The smile she has painted on her face is fake and unnerving.

She steps forward to me, knowing I cannot move. Does she know I heard her talking about the bitch troll?

"Come here darling. You look so tired -" She wraps her arms around me, hugging me tightly. I attempt to unlock my arms to share the embrace, but my arms are weak and a dead weight. "Christian!" Grace bellows to my husband a few yards away. "Christian, I think it's time you got Ana home. She looks tired." Pulling out of her hold on me, she steps back joining Carrick's side. He's looking down at his feet; uncomfortable and pissed off. What the hell is going on tonight?

"Grace, I..." I finally manage to get some words out of my mouth when I feel his arms wrap around my waist, pulling me back into his chest. He rests his head on my shoulder, breathing me in.

"Baby, come on. Taylor's got the car ready." Whispering into my ear as he lands a gentle kiss on my cheek.

"You'll come over for dinner tomorrow?" Grace questions. Have we already made plans?

"Of course." Christian's arms loosen around me, falling to his side. He steps forward, leaving me, to offer his good-byes to his parents. "Mother. Father."

"Good night son. Ana, take care." Carrick finally meets my eyes, they match Grace's. Something really is up this evening. It has something to do with Mrs Robinson, I know it does. How many Elena's are there? Especially in the 'community'.

Christian looks down at me as he takes me hand, leading me towards the front door. We remain in silence as we reach the car. Taylor steps out to open the door for me, closing it as I settle in and attempt to lock my seatbelt in place - the dress is a right pain in the backside, preventing me from moving normally! The fitted waist is slightly suffocating and the skirt is far too heavy; the sooner I can rip it off and get into my sweats the better. Standing outside the car, Taylor and Christian have words. Taylor displays the typical stern guy persona, showing no emotion. Christian on the otherhand looks frantic for some reason; running his hand through his hair he steps back, as he has been winded. He looks pissed over something. Seriously what is wrong?

As I stare out of the window looking back up the drive towards the house, I feel Christian slide in next to me. He reaches over to check my seatbelt is fastened before taking to his own. The lanterns fade away as Taylor exits the car from the Grey house. To say you can cut the air with a knife is a poor definition of how things feel in this car right now. The tension is visible and evident. I turn to face Christian looking for some sort of reassurance, but he stares blankly out of the window. I want to crawl over and climb up into his lap to take away whatever is bothering him. Is it Elena? Does he know what his parents were talking about? Of course he can't, he was too far away to hear them! I barely heard them, and I was within a reasonable distance to them. This monster of a gown prevents me from comforting him, instead I reach over to rest my hand on his thigh, near his hands which are pooled in his lap. He looks helpless, over-thinking things. It has to be what Taylor and him were discussing. Something to do with work? The security team? He doesn't look over to me as I touch him, he just lifts his hand and cups mine. No trace of emotion on his face as he traces his thumb over my knuckles. How can he flip so easily? Earlier today he was my Christian. My sweet, loving and happy Christian. Now he's in work mode, silent and expressionless.

Blip moves around inside me. I can't feel him moving yet, no kicks or punches, just butterflies swirling around. I made Christian sit there for half an hour when I first felt them, insisting him to hold my stomach to see if he could feel them too, but it was nothing to him. For now, Blip's movements remain my little secret.

I decide not to ask Christian about Elena, thinking that his parents were having a private conversation. I wasn't supposed to over hear them. Also, Christian might not even know anything about this. The last thing I want to do is open up that can of worms again. He promised me that he'd have nothing more to do with her after the last time. He now sees where we are all coming from; Elena was a paedophile. End of. She abused him when he needed support. She abused his trust and lead him down that slippery road. I know he still likes to believe that she helped him, that he would have ended up in prison if she hadn't, but maybe that would have been enough to set him straight?

Would I have met Christian if he hadn't have had his indecent relationship with Elena? No. He wouldn't have dropped out of Harvard and loaned money from her to start up his business. He wouldn't have been anywhere near as successful as he is. Kate wouldn't have tried to set up an interview with him, meaning I would never have needed to fill her place when she fell sick. Christian wouldn't have tried to get me to sign the contract, to become his submissive. We wouldn't be married. I'd probably be left finding either Jose or Paul a suitable partner. I would still be a meak little assistant trying to fend off Jack Hyde. He would have used me and held me to ransom, just like all his other assistants. I would be Ana Steele. I suppose everything thus far in both our lives has led us to this point, where we are now - married, in love and pregnant. Who would have thought that little Ana Steele, with her crazy Mom and ex-army step-dad, would be married to a billionaire, kinky son of a crack whore, who has more money than sense, and be pregnant after just a month of marriage? Whoever placed a bet on that in High School will be a rich bastard.

As we pull up into the garage at Escala, Christian jumps out before I can even say anything to him. He jolts over to my door, lifting me out. I remain silent; he doesn't look as if he wants to talk about it. Maybe later? We head up in the elevator with Taylor - any sexual tension between Christian and I is most definitely quashed. When the doors slide open, revealing the foyer, I leave them heading for our bedroom. I turn briefly and see them enter his study. Everything is silent. The only noise that breaks the eerie darkness is my hetched breathing and heels clicking as I manoeuvre the wooden floors.

I somehow manage to undo the lace at the back of dress, just enough so I can pull it down. It sinks to the floor, fanning out around my feet in a mass of gold, almost like the sun. I scoop it up in my arms and shove it back into the dress bag. I don't bother hanging it up properly, I'll do that in the morning. I hunt through the dresser and find my sweat pants and a t-shirt. I throw them on after stepping out of my panties and bra, flinging them into the closet.

My eyelids are sinking fast, and I can feel myself slipping away already. I climb into bed, lying on Christian's side. I always feel more settled when I can smell him on his pillow. I breathe in his scent clutching a pillow to my stomach, pretending it were him in my arms.

* * *

"What are you doing?" I whisper over to him. He has his back turned.

I joined him in his study, finding him facing away from the door. I struggled to stay asleep knowing he was in here, away from me.

"Christian?" I walk towards him. He remains still, unmoving, unconcerned that I'm here.

The study is in almost complete darkness, just the lamp on his desk and his computer providing a dim light. Papers strewn all over his desk, some of them finding their way to the floor. I continue forward, my feet shuffling across the cold flooring.

"Christian, baby?" I'm worried now. He still hasn't moved. Why is he ignoring me?

As I reach him, I walk around his desk to face him in his chair.

"CHRISTIAN!" I scream out at him.

His eyes are open wide and lifeless. A pool of blood circles his heart, staining his white shirt. A small hole visible in the fabric. Oh my God, Christian. "NO!" I shake him. "Wake up!" His head falls to the side, blood trickling from his mouth.

"No, no, no! Christian, please wake up!" I pull him into my chest. He remains floppy and lifeless. _Please, God, No_!

Tears fall omniously down my face, falling into his copper hair.

I hold him close, begging him to wake up, move, just do something. _Please don't leave me_. Just reach out your arms, I want nothing more than for him to wrap his arms around me.

Glancing up towards the door I hear footsteps making their way over to me. Taylor must have heard my screams. He has to come, he needs to call an ambulance. Someone needs to help him. Help my husband!

"Taylor, hurry!"

A shadow forms around the door, making it's way into my eyeline.

"Hello Anastasia."

Her cold voice ringing in my ears.

She enters the study, her blonde halo stuck perfectly on top of her head. Her eyes hunt me out, staring straight through me. I squeeze Christian tightly, holding him to me. She has a revolver in her hands. Oh God, she did this? She hurt him. I want to scream out but I can't. I can't let go. I just can't.

She lifts the gun and points it directly at me.

"Good bye Anastasia."


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: The characters featured in this story reflect those in E L James's Fifty Shades Trilogy, they therefore rightfully remain her property. The plot and themes of this story are those of the author. The author is in no way affliated with James.**

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**Thanks again! :)**

* * *

Oh my God. No, Please say this isn't happening.

Running down through the Great Hall I pass Mrs Jones. She's standing there helpless, confused and tired. I bolt past her, unable to say anything. _Come on Grey, move your ass_! The faster I try to pound down the hall, the harder my effort becomes. My ribs are at the point of breaking, but I just need to know. I have to.

Finally I reach to the doors, bursting through them like a cannon, pushing them so hard that they bounce back of the wall.

"What the fuck?"

I fall to the floor unable to breathe or do anything. It's like all the air has been ripped from the apartment; my lungs tighten trying to savour every last ounce of oxygen still in my body. The room begins to spin as I let go to a continuous stream of tears flooding my cheeks.

"Christ, Ana!" He leaps up from his desk, slamming his phone down.

Thank God he's okay!

Quickly, he jumps across the room to me, launching himself around me, shielding me from everything. His arms tighten around my back as I nuzzle into his chest. He's breathing, he's moving. I push my hands up onto his chest, pushing him away. I run my hands over his heart; it's fine, just racing and pounding under my fingers.

"Ana, what's wrong?" He cups my face in his hands, leaning closer to me, forcing me to look him in the eyes.

I know that when I look him in the eyes I will feel safe. I'll know that it was just a dream. Just a nightmare. But the tears in my eyes are blurring everything, distorting his beautiful face.

"Christian... You were... There, and... Not moving... Her..." I gasp, finally, taking in a fraction of air but not enough to calm my breathing, hetched from the shock and horror of what I saw, and the assault course I just ran. God, I could sure give Tyson Gay a run for his money!

"Baby, calm down. Breathe." Finally I set my eyes on his. His eyes are the gate ways to the heavens, bringing me home and letting me know that everything is okay. I relax in his arms, concentrating on regulating my breathing. This isn't exactly good for Blip.

We sit huddled on the floor for a little while, me sitting in his lap with his arms squeezing me. He rubs my upper back in circular motions, soothingly. The tears stop, my breathing slows and my heart returns to its regular pattern, once I realise that it really was just a dream.

"Shh. Ana, my sweet Ana. Everything's fine baby. I'm here. I'm never letting you go." I nuzzle into him a little more, taking in his scent and closing my eyes, believing him and his words.

* * *

As I wake I jolt forward panicking, until I feel him and know that he's here.

I vaguely remember falling asleep in his arms, back in his study. He must have carried me to bed. I hope he stayed with me, though knowing that I didn't wake up from another nightmare is promising. _Oh how the roles have reversed, Mrs Grey_. I ignore my subsconscious who sits there idly staring at me from across the room.

"Good Morning, Mrs Grey." He pulls me tighter into him, my back to his chest.

"Good Morning." I reply shaky and hesitant.

"Are you going to tell me what all that was about?"

"Where do I start?" I look down at his hand that rests on my stomach.

"How about at the part where you came gun hoe into my study at 4am?"

"4am?" I turn sharply to face him, stunned by his admission. "What were you doing up at 4am?"

He pushes my hair behind my ear and trails his fingers down my face until he reaches my lips. He traces them slowly with his thumb, parting them slightly.

"I was on a conference call."

"Shit. Baby, I'm sorry, I just... I needed to know you were okay."

His face softens; at least he isn't angry I barged in on his call. "Ana, don't apologise. I'm glad you found me, it probably saved you from tearing your hair out in here. But, why did you need to know if I was okay?"

"I saw you. In your study. You weren't moving and you were ignoring me. Then I saw it. You'd been shot, and there was blood everywhere, coming out of your mouth and everything. Then she turned up. I thought she was Taylor coming to help me, but there she was. Holding a gun. She pointed it at me and then I woke up." I'm surprised that I've managed to tell him calmly, without chilling relaying to him what happened.

"Who?"

I look into his eyes and raise my eyebrow. _Come on Grey, surely you must know who_?

The lightbulb goes off and he frowns at me, having realised whom I was referring to.

"Ana, why? Baby, she's gone."

"Last night. I wasn't going to tell you, but when I went to see you parents, as we getting ready to leave, I saw them having a _discussion_."

"A _discussion_?"

"Let me finish!" I bark back at him, he smirks and allows me to continue, unphased. "They were having words and they both looked really pissed. Then as I got closer I heard your Mom say 'Elena'."

"I'll talk to them."

"Christian, I don't want them knowing I over-heard them, it's none of my business. Please, don't."

"Okay -" He rolls onto his back releasing his hand from my face. "Okay, I won't say anything. It might be nothing."

"It might be something. What were you and Taylor talking about last night?"

He shifts uncomfortably. "Just office stuff. We're hiring a new security team for Grey House."

"Why?" I sit up to rest against our headboard.

"It's nothing. We've just had a few problems with some members of staff." He cups the back of my neck bringing me back to his chest. I rest my head above his heart.

"Problems?" I hear my voice go up an octave as I press him further. I run my fingers through his chest hair.

"Some personnel files have been breached. We received an alert that some members of staff were trying to infiltrate private and secure files on the database. They've been fired, along with our current IT team and security. Taylor has been calling in some backup. He's lined up some new staff. Everything's sorted baby."

I relax knowing that it has nothing to do with _her_. He doesn't know anything about her; he kept to his word.

"Now Mrs Grey, you and my child need breakfast, and I need to shower and get to work."

"Ugh, sure do. Blip's having a full blown Mia hissy fit right now. I'll jump in the shower after you, before I head to work."

"Oh no, Mrs Grey!" He sits upright in shock, as if I have announced that I'm a man or something! "You're not going anywhere today! Not after early this morning. You're staying here to look after our little guy in there." He strokes my stomach sending a tingling sensation through to my core.

"Christian I have to go to work."

"No. I'll call Hannah and tell her you need your rest. Wilkes can play boss for today."

"Fine." I pout, knowing that he's probably right. I do need to rest after what happened before, I'm no use to Blip if I'm tired and exhausted all the time. "But I'm working from home."

"We'll see about that."

* * *

I tap away at my laptop sending emails to both Danielle and Hannah, asking them to send over some manuscripts.

They both seem to understand that I need some rest today, agreeing that lately I haven't been looking my best. I can't wait to tell people that I'm pregnant, not dying from some sort of disgusting disease. Danielle is taking over my office for the day in order to prepare for my meeting with John, from finance. I make a mental note to send her a massive bouquet of flowers as a thank you for being amazing. I knew as soon as she walked in for the interview that she was the one. With her red hair, curled, and trailing around one of her shoulders, a power suit with shoulder pads to give Joan Collins a run for her money, and a list of questions the size of my arm. She knew what she was doing. Danielle's 28, the same as Christian, though she's unmarried. _'Forever dedicated to my work, Mrs Grey.' _

* * *

**From: Danielle Wilkes**

**Subject: No Sweat!**

**Date: 1st November 2011 09:47:11AM**

**To: Anastasia Grey**

Ana,

Don't worry about it! Take as much time as you need. Hannah and I can run the office in your absence.

I've clued up on your notes ready for the meeting with Furrows this afternoon, and I've already proof read two chapters of a new manuscript, prepped with notes ready for your autograph when you return.

Take it easy. We won't let anything bad happen.

:)

Danielle Wilkes

Assistant Editor, Grey Publishing Ltd.

* * *

**From: Anastasia Grey**

**Subject: Thank you.**

**Date: 1st November 2011 09:52:29AM**

**To: Danielle Wilkes**

Danielle,

I cannot thank you enough! You have been brilliant over the past couple of months, especially when I have been unable to return to the office. I hate leaving you guys in the lurch.

Thank you again for dealing with things. Please note that I'll be working from home today, so I will be on hand if you need me.

I trust you to keep things running smoothly.

Ana.

* * *

Mrs Jones interrupts me a few times, bringing tea, juice and lunch - I think Christian has probably informed her of Blips schedule and necessity to have me eat at least every other hour.

I've managed to do a lot from home, surprisingly. This calms me knowing that things can, and will, work once the baby's here. That and it feels great not having to dress up for work, instead I can sit around in my sweats all day.

I hear the ping of another email and return back to my laptop. I stare at the background for a short while. It's the photograph from our wedding day. It's us as we kiss at the altar. It's my favourite photograph of us, though I am contemplating adding a new background - one of Blips scan.

* * *

**From: Christian Grey**

**Subject: Dinner.**

**Date: 1st November 2011 14:12:56PM**

**To: Anastasia Grey**

Please be ready to leave for when I return from work. Remember we are heading to my parents for dinner at six.

I hope you've been taking it easy? Mrs Jones has told me you've eaten. Thank you.

I hope that you have gotten over your nightmare from this morning. It does make a change for me to comfort you, though, I hate seeing you that way.

I love you.

xxx

Christian Grey

Personal calender & CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

* * *

**From: Anastasia Grey**

**Subject: Dinner? Yes please!**

**Date: 1st November 2011 14:16:09PM**

**To: Christian Grey**

I will be ready, showered, dressed and primmed for when you return. I can't show my husband up now can I? I did remember that we are heading to your parents for dinner this evening. We can tell them all tonight it you like?

I have been taking it easy, rest assured Mr Grey. I knew that you would pester Gail, and you're welcome.

I've barely given it a second thought, it was nightmare, nothing more. It does, and I hate seeing you that way as well. Maybe this is proof that we must sleep together at all times?

I look forward to dinner, because as much as I hate to admit it, I am getting slightly hungry right now. Hungry for both food and something a little more stimulating.

I love you too.

Ana

xxx

* * *

**From: Christian Grey**

**Subject: Don't tease Mrs Grey**

**Date: 1st November 2011 14:21:31PM**

**To: Anastasia Grey**

Hm, what I wouldn't give to be there right now. I think I could help you out with both of your dilemma's Mrs Grey. I do believe Mrs Jones has stocked the refridgerator with Chocolate pudding. ;)

YES! Finally! I've already taken care of the scan photographs; they are safe in the individual cards along with the gifts for everyone. I suspect you'd like to call your parents and tell them the news? I know it's been eating away at you having to keep it from them.

See you tonight

xxx

Christian Grey

Horny as hell CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: The characters featured in this story reflect those in E L James's Fifty Shades Trilogy, they therefore rightfully remain her property. The plot and themes of this story are those of the author. The author is in no way affliated with James. No copyright infringment intended.**

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* * *

I sign the last name on the card and seal the envelope, placing it down on top of the neatly gift wrapped box.

Christian and I have spent the past few weeks deciding on the best way to share our news with the family - do we write it on a banner and have a pilot trail it across the sky? Or do we just send a one liner email, 'guess who got knocked up'? After a few suggestions we settled on thank you cards. Each member of the family will have a personalised card from us, expressing our love and thanks for their help through the engagement and wedding, and now to inform them that they will soon be a Uncle/Aunt/Grandma/Grandpa. Each one has a copy of the sonogram in it, for them to do as they wish, but my favourite additions are the trinkets we are offering them.

For Grace and Carrick we are giving them a bottle of the finest Champagne Christian could find; Christian picked out a watch for his father, engraving it our names and 'Baby Grey'. For Grace, I chose a delicate Platinum locket, already filled with a picture of Christian and I on our wedding day, along with a cropped copy of the sonogram. I've brought one similar for my Mom, although it will be a while before I see her; Christian and I have decided to fly out to Georgia to visit my Mom and Bob for a few days, that way I can tell her face to face. Ray on other hand has already received a phone call from Christian, telling him the good news seeing as he's still in recover from his accident, and insisting for us to not visit him until he's back on his feet, literally! He took it surprisingly well, no cursing or threatening to hunt Christian down for knocking his 22 year old daughter up. Ray just wants us to be happy and after telling him that I can't wait to be Mommy, he supports us a hundred per cent. After all, he's gonna be a Grandpa! Though this doesn't distract from the half hour silence we endured. The rest of the family got more subtle trinkets: Mia and Kate are receiving matching charm bracelets each adawned with charms saying 'Best Auntie', along with their initials and a small 'Baby Grey' charm. The jewelery store had a field day when we went in and brought nine tenths of their stock! Elliot's was the last gift we chose. In the window of the store we saw a small silver baseball ornament, Christian knew instinctively to buy it recalling how Elliot used to obsess over baseball in his youth - apparently he almost got a scholarship for it! Who knew? We had the plaque engraved with 'My Favourite Uncle' in delicate script.

I smile looking down at all the gifts wrapped along with their corresponding envelopes. _Time to get dressed before Daddy comes home_! For some reason when I am thinking about things or just in a world of my own, my hands find their way to my stomach, to stroke and rub Blip. I won't have to hide it from tonight; Once our family knows then everyone else can. I fear that Christian might go a step too far and try to buy a national holiday for when the baby arrives; I wouldn't put anything past him.

After showering and drying my hair, I slip into my navy, knee length skirt and white sleeveless blouse. Very Editor like, but suitable for dinner with the in-laws! I pinch my cheeks to add a splash of colour, though I don't need it - I am glowing. My skin looks great, full of life and soft. My hair is full of volume and shine. These side affects of pregnancy can stay, along with my newly acquired cleveage.

I glance down at my watch, 4:59PM. Christian should be home by now. I wonder out through the Great Hall and anxiously check both the kitchen and his study to see if he's hiding somewhere. _Where's Daddy, Blip? We're gonna be late if he doesn't get his ass here soon_! As I step out of the study, closing the door behind me, there he pops, standing by the elevator all casual and sexy. How did I get so lucky?

"Looking for someone?" He smirks at me, gliding towards me, taking me in his arms.

"No one of significance." I giggle, squeezing him tight.

"You ready to go baby?" He whispers nuzzling my hair and kissing the top of my head lightly.

"Yes, just need to grab the presents and we can hit the road!"

* * *

"Ana! No, sit here in the middle!" I turn to face Mia, gawping at her all wide-eyed and pouty expression - no wonder Christian always gives in to her!

Dutifully I swap seats, moving from Christian's side on one side of the table, over to the other to sit between Kate and Mia. Glancing over at Christian as I pass him I can see the frustration on his face. Falling into my seat I mouth 'Sorry' and shrug my shoulders to him; it's a hell of a lot easier apologising to Christian than facing the wrath of Miss Mia Trevelyan-Grey! God, she blanked Christian for days after the whole 'no, we're not having fucking swans at the wedding' argument!

"So I'm supposed to just give up my seat next to my fiance to move next to him?" Elliot huffs as he pulls out the chair next to Christian.

"Trust me, I'd much rather be seated next to my wife." Both of them throw a disgruntled look over to Mia, who pouts and stands her ground.

I blank out during dinner, focusing on demolishing all the food on my plate, ignoring the meaningless small talk around the table and Gretchen's efforts at scowling at me. _Yeah bitch, get over it_! I roll my eyes at my subconscious, she's getting a lot braver and annoying as the days go on, I wonder haplessly if my heightened hormone levels have anything to do with it? My eating habits haven't gone unnoticed - Kate laughed it off making a comment about how all that 'exercise' must be taking its toll on my body. It's hard to not just leap on the table and shout it out to them, but for now it's remains our secret, until we've finished dinner. I catch Grace in the corner of my eye, she smiles knowingly. Of course both her and Carrick already know, and have been sworn to secrecy until we had our first offical scan, but I know she's desperate to get a report on how things are going.

"So Kate, have you finalised a date yet?" Mia enquires. Everyone around the table rolls their eyes at her; she's been itching to get her hands all over the next Grey wedding.

"Nope, still need to look into a few dates. But it's looking to be late May." Shit. Dr Greene determined that our due date is May 20th, meaning that I'll either be heavily pregnant, bloated and ready to drop, or post-baby flab in my maid of honor gown. Kate's always had her heart set on a Spring wedding. I blanch out remembering her relentless cry fests after the latest jerk broke her heart, leaving her all cosy pj's and icecream on the couch, spilling her heart out, scared that she'll never find anyone. I'm stoked that she's finally found someone - I don't think Christian would appreciate her coming over at 3am blubbering and crawling into my bed! I feel the need to use her own words, that she used at Christian, towards Elliot, threatening to have his balls for earrings if he hurts her. Kavanagh sure does have a way with words!

As we finish the last of the meal Gretchen emerges again to clear the plates. She dips in beside Christian trying to grab his attention, but he remains fixated on me. His eyes bore into mine, probably his way of reassuring me. She just doesn't take the hint does she? _Can you not see the ring on his finger_?

"Ana are you okay?" Kate grabs me by the shoulder.

"Huh?"

"Ana, something's up. I know you. You're hiding something from me!"

"I'm fine, honestly -" before I can say anything else Christian rises from the table, grabbing all of our attention.

"Everyone, Ana and I have something for you all." He leaves the dining room momentarily, strolling in with the paper bag full of gifts.

He hands the corresponding presents to each of them, their faces lighting up with excitement and confusion.

"Please open the cards first. The gifts are just a little extra something." Christian winks at me as he hands his father his box and card. He comes to stand behind me, resting his hands on my shoulders, massaging them. Hm, I wonder if we could sneak off to his childhood bedroom unnoticed?

"All in good time Mrs Grey." he whispers in my ear, kissing my neck.

I sit back nervously waiting for them all to open their cards. Silence fills the air in the immediate aftermath of ripping the envelopes open and opening the cards, revealing the contents. I glance around, Grace and Carrick grin looking at their copies of the scan, knowing that this is signal that we have the all-clear; their grandchild is healthy. The silence arrupts with both Mia and Kate squealing like high school girls!

"OH MY GOD!" Mia jumps from her seat, launching herself around me.

"Whoa, Mia!"

"Sorry, oh God! This is so perfect! How far?"

"Ana's three months." Christian tightens his grip on my shoulders whilst Mia holds onto me for dear life.

As Mia pulls back, Kate takes her place. For the first time, in all the years I've known her, she's completely speechless. I can see the water begin build up in her eyes.

"Aw Kate!" I throw my arms around her pulling her into a hug. "Why are you crying?"

"I'm shocked! I mean, you've been married only, what four months? You don't wait around do you, Steele?" She pulls out of my hold, swiping the tears from her cheeks, looking at me for approval that her mascara hasn't run down her face; I nod my head giving her the all clear. Good day to wear waterproof mascara, Kavanagh!

"Grey." Christian's voice accosts Kate, sharply and sternly. Dominant Christian has been an unexpected, but short lived arrival. Kate turns to him briefly, rolling her eyes, completely unphased. Jeez, if I roll my eyes, my behind gets a beating! However, if those silver balls are involved somewhere in the process, I really don't mind one of Mr Grey's punishment spankings! Even better when it's followed by a punishment fuck. Followed by an 'i'm sorry' almighty, 'I'll do anything for you', love-making session.

"Congrats bro!" Elliot throws his arm around Christian into a manly embrace, though from the look of his face he could easily join Kate in an emotional breakdown. "Can't say I'm not surprised though, I mean we all had our bets on me being the first one to knock a girl up!"

"Elliot!"

Kate and Grace scold him, then laugh to themselves. It's true. After Christian divuldged that nugget of information, that Elliot was a bit of a man-whore, it's no wonder that Grace and Carrick had a bet on him being the one coming home telling them the delightful news. They'd never suspect that from Christian, let's face it they all thought he was gay! Little did they know that they're fucked-up son was being beaten, screwed and toyed with by a family 'friend', then went on to beat little brown-haired girls who resembled his crack-whore of a mother. Somehow I think the later part of that will remain our secret; I don't think Grace would appreciate knowing how our relationship really started!

For the rest of the evening I have Mia fussing over my stomach, desperately trying to feel something - she only stopped when Grace, kindly, informed her that not even I would feel anything significant for a few months. I can tell Christian is growing frustrated with his sisters constant baricade of questioning - how did we find out? Was it on honeymoon? When are we due? Have we picked a name? Honestly, the list is endless. Towards the end of the evening I turn to Kate, as we settle down onto one of the luxury couches in the reception room. I watch her fuss with her new charm bracelet, twirling it around her wrist, inspecting the delicate charms. I added a charm with 'sister' on it, I know she'll love this! How often can best friends say that they met the loves of their lives in the same time period, and they happen to be brothers?

"Kate are you okay?"

"God, Ana, I'm more than okay! I'm so happy for you! Shocked, but happy! Thank you so much for the bracelet!" She pulls me into another hug, resting her head on my shoulder so I get a face full of her blonde, beach hair.

"I'm glad you're happy! Baby Grey is going to need a somewhat sane Aunt!"

I feel her chuckle against my chest. "True! So when is Baby Grey going to make an appearance?"

I let my arms fall down allowing Kate to pull away. "The doctor said, based on his developments, around May 20th."

"His?" Her eyes widen and mouth almost falls to the floor.

"Oh, no we don't know yet! I mean, it's far too early to tell, but I just have this feeling that he's a boy."

"Are you gonna find out?"

"I don't know, we haven't really discussed it yet." I shake my head. Will Christian want to know? Do I want to know for definite? I mean, I like the idea of finding out because it means we can organise the nursery and colour cordinate, either pink or blue, but I really like the idea of looking down as Blip is born and seeing him or her for the first time.

"Kate, I'm hoping you're prepared to have a fat maid of honor?"

"Ana! The wedding can move! Baby Grey is more important!"

"No Kate, you've dreamt of a spring wedding since you were a little girl! You shouldn't move it for us! I'm just suck it up, and you never know, he might decide to make an early arrival!"

"Well how about compromise?" Turning to face we square on with her Champagne in hand. "I mean, you're due near the end of May right? Well if we have the wedding at the very end of May, chances are you'll already have him! Meaning we have a ready made little flower girl or ring bearer!" I giggle and well up at the thought of Blip in a mini tux! A mini Christian!

"Shouldn't you really discuss this with Elliot?" I raise my eyebrows at her.

"Ah, we both know who wears the pants in this relationship!" She smirks, downing her glass.

I turn to look around the room, at my family. Christian, embracing his Mom who's crying her eyes out over her pendant. Carrick and Elliot discussing baseball - Elliot is desperate to teach Blip to pitch when he's older, even if he's a girl! Mia is jumping around spurting out ideas over baby showers, cribs and designer blankets.

My family. My crazy, erratic new family.


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: The characters featured in this story reflect those in E L James's Fifty Shades Trilogy, they therefore rightfully remain her property. The plot and themes of this story are those of the author. The author is in no way affliated with James. No copyright infringment intended.**

* * *

**From: Christian Grey**

**Subject: I miss you already...**

**Date: 2nd November 2011 08:47:01AM**

**To: Anastasia Grey**

... and you've only just got out of the car.

I hope you have a great day, baby. I wish you'd just give up work and decide to be barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen all day.

C

x

Christian Grey

Lonely CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

* * *

**From: Anastasia Grey**

**Subject: Ditto!**

**Date: 2nd November 2011 08:50:22AM**

**To: Christian Grey**

I can't wait for tonight. I hate being away from you :(

I will ignore the comment on my work. Some of us prefer to work and not living off their husbands income.

I do believe we are, well and truly, obsessed with one another. Maybe we should book an appointment with Flynn before things get out of hand?

I love you.

Ana

xx

Anastasia Grey

Equally Lonely Editor, Grey Publishing Ltd.

* * *

**From: Christian Grey**

**Subject: Unnecessary**

**Date: 2nd November 2011 08:55:06AM**

**To: Anastasia Grey**

I will be making an appointment to see Flynn in due course. Even though I do not feel the need to see him, knowing I have you to discuss things with, he still wants a check in to talk over the pregnancy. I'll see him to put his mind at ease.

C

xx

Christian Grey

Cured CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

* * *

**From: Anastasia Grey**

**Subject: I think I may have...**

**Date: 2nd November 2011 09:00:09AM**

**To: Christian Grey**

... Lost Flynn a patient! But I'm glad you can talk to me. You can always talk to me, about ANYTHING! (Please note that this is not shouty capitals, just exaggerating capitals to emphasise my point!) After everything you've told me, there is nothing you can say that will make me love you any less or shock me!

I have to go, I have a meeting!

Laters, baby.

I love you!

A

xx

Anastasia Grey

Un-trained Psychiatrist, Wife, Pregnant Lady & Editor, Grey Publishing Ltd.

* * *

"Ana, all I'm saying is, maybe it'd be best if you took a step down. You know we're all stoked for you, hell everyone loves babies right? But it would be a good idea to slow things down, concentrate on your baby."

I scowl, trying to comprehend and fathom the point she is trying to get across.

I decided that today would be a great opportunity to tell everyone mine and Christian's news, seeing as the majority of our senior staff have turned out for the debrief this morning. Naturally I was congratulated, along with the same questions Mia bombarded me with last night. However I was completely stunned by Danielle's outburst. After offering me a brief congratulations she went on to suggest that maybe I should take maternity leave early! What the fuck?

"Danielle I appreciate your input -" _No I fucking don't_! "but I'll remain in my position until I decide to take maternity leave later. I'm pregnant, not an invalid."

"I'm not saying you are, just that maybe it's a good idea to pass the work load to someone else."

"I am not giving up my job just because I'm pregnant." I notice that my voice has raised through anger. I glance around the room and see everyone else briskly try to stumble out of the door, out of my firing line.

"Ana -" Danielle rises from her seat, tugging at her suit jacket, pulling it into place. "Please, just think about it. I mean, come on, it's not as if I can't handle it. You know I can do your job with my hands tied behind my back! You don't need to sweat over these things when you have me around!" She throws over a smirk, looking down at me.

My subconscious is in the corner wanting to rip her throat out, needing to be restrained by security!

I stand up abruptly, matching her. I stare her out, offering her the best Christian 'I don't give a fuck what you think' Grey style angry face I can master.

"Ms Wilkes, I would like you to remember that it is in fact 'Grey' above the door of this building. I must offer my thanks to you for stepping up to the plate whilst I have been absent from the office, but please note for future reference that it is not _your_ job to tell me what I should or shouldn't do." I gasp for breath, trying to maintain my dominant persona.

I interrupt her before she can break up my powerful monologue. "I am aware that _you_ believe you may be suitable for a job of my standing, however I would not hesitate in informing you that _I_ am in charge. I will decide who takes the lead when I leave to become a mother. Not you."

She steps back, equally as stunned as I am from my outburst. Damn, I must be channelling Christian through Blip or something. _Come on Grey, knock her out_! I brush off my subconscious as she's carried from the room, at head height by two burly security guards.

"Ana, come on."

"Mrs Grey." I force my arms to cross them over my body to stop me from launching at her.

"_Mrs Grey_, I didn't mean to over step my mark. I was just looking out for you."

Sure you were! Not as if you're trying to kick me out of my office or anything?

"Ms Wilkes, I do not need you to look out for me. I am your superior. You report to me. End of. Now, please can you get back to the job you are paid to do."

As she gathers her notes and scurries from the conference room I sink into my chair. Jeez, some people! I pull out my BlackBerry and pull it to my ear, waiting patiently for him to pick up and answer.

"Yes ma'am?"

"Can you please bring the car to the front of the building?"

"Of course ma'am, is everything okay?"

"No."

"I'll meet you in reception ma'am."

"Thank you Sawyer."

I hang up and throw my phone down on the table. I can't believe her! She sounds just like Christian. What is it with people having an issue with me working? Angrily, I scoop up all of the papers on the table, whether they are of significance or not, and stomp out of the conference room, slamming the door behind me as I leave.

Walking through the rest of the office I catch a few people staring at me, as my eyes briefly meet theirs, they lower their heads quicker than I can snap my fingers. The majority of them daren't even breathe as I power past them. All I can see is a mass of red with bodies blurring my destination: my office.

Slamming my office door behind me I settle into my chair, leaning back in an attempt to calm down. I've never been this angry before, never! Not when Christian left or when bitch troll decided to start fucking with us again. Never.

I rest my hands on my stomach and instantly feel some relief, though not enough.

"You're doing this aren't you?" I whisper to Blip as I stroke my belly back and forth. "You're turning me into Daddy!" I laugh to myself; Yes, that was a very Christian Grey like outburst.

"Mrs Grey, can I come in?" I hear a voice at the door, knocking sheepishly.

"Yes." I turn in my chair to face in the direction of the door to see Hannah as she enters.

"I've printed off those letters that you asked for." She steps forward slowly to rest them on the edge of the table.

"Thank you." My voice softens slightly.

"Can I um... Can I get you anything, Mrs Grey?" Hannah asks me as I sit forward in my chair, powering down my computer.

"Hannah, please call me Ana. It's not you I'm pissed off at. And no, thank you. I'll be leaving the office, I won't be in til tomorrow morning." I switch off the screen and grab my purse from the floor, shoving the papers I carried in from the conference room into it.

"Oh okay. Would you like me to forward your calls to Ms Wilkes?"

"Fuck No!" I screech, causing Hannah to jump. "No. Please can you deal with anything in my absence. Ms Wilkes is not to take any calls; she is not to sign off any contracts. Nothing. Do you understand me?"

"Of course. But who do I refer to if I need someone urgently?"

"If it's super important, then call me. I'll have my BlackBerry on me. I'm sure I can use Christ - Mr Grey's fax machine if necessary. If it's something relatively minor please can you deal with it?"

"But Ana, I'm not qualified enough to deal with those sort of the things."

"Hannah, I have faith in you. But if you need a bit of support ask Mark, he'll point you in the right direction."

I make my way out of my office, through to the main office area, filled with people taking calls and furiously typing - anything to not get in my way. It's like the parting of the waves.

"See you tomorrow Mrs Grey."

I nod as I pass Hannah, making my way to the elevator. I'm left alone in the lift, on the way down to reception. One of the girls from finance jumped out as soon as the lift hit the next floor down. I guess news travels fast in the workplace.

In reception Claire smiles at me, gingerly - no doubt someone called her to tell her the boss lady was having a bitch fit on fifth! - I greet her in return. As I reach the lobby doors, Sawyer jumps in front of me to open them on my behalf.

"Mrs Grey."

"Sawyer." I nod.

As we walk over to the car, Sawyer holds up an umbrella shielding me from the light drizzle falling down around us, only releasing it when we reach the car so he can open the rear passenger door for me. I slide in and fasten my seatbelt, waiting patiently for him to jump in the front and get me out of this hell hole.

"Escala?"

"No." I see him look up into the mirror, his brow is low and his face distorted with confusion. "Grey House. As soon as."

"Yes, Mrs Grey."

"Oh, and Sawyer?"

"Ma'am?"

"Please do not call Taylor or Mr Grey."

For a moment he ponders, eyes fixed on the road as he pulls out of Grey Publishing's parking lot. Eventually he looks up into the mirror as we halt at a stop sign, before nodding his head.


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: The characters portrayed in this story reflect those in E L James's Fifty Shades Trilogy, therefore they rightfully remain her property. The plot and themes in this story are those of the author. The author is in no way affliated with James. No copyright infringment intended.**

**Again I am soooo grateful for all of your kind words! I'm honestly shocked and humbled that soooo many of you are reading and enjoying my story! I didn't expect anyone to get past the first chapter, so to know you are waiting for an update brings a MASSIVE smile to my face!**

**WARNING: Lemon in this chapter! ;)**

**This is a long chapter guys!**

**Love to you all!**

**Thank you! Keep them reviews coming, I love them all! :)**

* * *

Sawyer drives safely and promptly through the midday traffic, negotiating his way through what seems like thousands of cars. Thankfully, Christian's office is a mere half hour away from Grey Publishing, but I know today it's going to take longer. Being held up in an office during the day means I see little of life during the office hours of 9 til 5, though somehow I'm grateful that I'm not subjected to this on a frequent basis. I'm ever more grateful of Christian's instisting on me being driven around, as I know that feeling the way I do right now, I'd be danger to everyone else on the road, as well as putting Blip in unnecessary danger.

The red mist is fading slightly as I watch people go about life in peace. As we drive past a small cafe I see a young couple sitting at a table by the window, all over each other. Part of me wants to scream 'get a room!', but the other part wants to curl up into a ball until my husband finds me. I feel alone without him by my side.

Stopping at a red light I see a young woman waiting for the lights to change on the other side, so she can cross. Her hair is pulled back out of her face. She's a brunette, though she has blonde highlights running through it; they shine as the sun tries to break through the clouds that are covering Seattle in a blanket of rain. I feel drawn to her, staring, gawping even, as she stands there. She's carrying a huge holdall and a large drawing pad; she's looks like she's in a hurry, but continues to wait until the light changes, rather than risking it. I wonder where she's heading? She turns to face our direction, assessing the traffic, her face shows it all - pissed off and deep in thought. I shy away for a split second, hoping that she doesn't notice me staring at her, until I realise the car has tinted windows - all our cars do! She's too far away for me to check her out completely, so she remains a stranger. The light changes and she hurries across the street, her hair swaying from side to side as she jogs. She leaves my field of vision, going about the rest of her day. Everyone's going out their day, doing what they have to do. It's strange watching people go by, wondering what they're thinking. It's amazing how you could easily slip through a crowd unnoticed, free to do what you want without being hassled.

I continue to stare omniously out of the window watching the other drivers as we glide past them. The rain is beating down on the car heavily now; this is the worst rain I've seen since being here in Seattle, though I should be used to it having spent the past four years living in Portland!

Sawyer pulls up into Christian's reserved parking bay at Grey House, switching off the ignition before hopping out. I sit there patiently waiting for him to meet me on the other side - he has the umbrella.

"Mrs Grey -" Sawyer takes my hand as I step out of the car. He's clearly picked up on the fact that I'm not feeling my best today. I wonder if someone told him about my outburst?

"Thank you. You haven't called him have you?"

"No ma'am. But please, can you make sure that they know this was your idea? Mr Grey and Taylor would have my ass if they find out I let you leave your office without telling them. Especially after what happened before." His face contorts, remembering the whole Hyde incident, the same way Christian's does when he starts thinking about it.

"Sawyer, don't worry, I'll take the heat. It was my fault the last time, though I hope you understand why I did it?"

"I do ma'am. Of course, you did what you had to do to save Ms Grey. But we were all worried about you, all of us ma'am. Please, can you tell us in future?"

"I don't intend on there being another occasion like that, but sure." I smile at him. I'm glad he's atleast talking to me know, it was horrible having to be around him knowng that neither of us were prepared to strike the first chord.

"I hope you don't mind my asking Mrs Grey, but why didn't you want me to call ahead?" He opens up the umbrella, positioning it over my head as we walk over to the main entrance. I nod and smile at him, as a way of thanking him.

"I just wanted you to get me here, that's all." I pull my bag closer across my stomach as we reach the door.

"Oh right, would you like me to come in with you ma'am?"

We enter the lobby, shaking off the rain. "No, I'll be fine from here, thank you. Go have lunch or something."

"Um, what time do you expect to be leaving ma'am?"

"Sawyer, I'll probably just hang around here for the rest of the afternoon, until Mr Grey finishes. I'll ride home with him. If the situation changes I'll call you."

He nods his head and smiles, backing up out of the lobby, back into the rain. I watch him as he leaves, running back in the direction of the car.

I head straight for the lift that leads straight to Christian's office, trying my best to avoid everyone. A few men in sharp suits smile over at me, declaring their hollywood grin to the room, I smile politely back at them but ignore them. _Please don't talk to me_! Every time I arrive here I am stalked and bothered by so many people - all of them trying to suck up to the boss's wife, hoping I'll happen to mention something to him. Sorry guys, you aren't getting in his good books on my behalf!

The lift doors close around me, sealing me in the steel cell leading me up to my husband. I stoop down slightly to check myself in the control panel, thankful that it's mirrored. I wipe away a smudge of mascara from under my eye and smooth my hair behind my ears - it's puffed out slightly from the rain but still manageable, for the time being. I opted for my grey pencil skirt and matching blouse today. The skirts starting to tighten around my stomach, around my growing Blip. I know that this is probably one of the last times I will be able to wear it for a long time. The thought is saddening, but I try to focus on the joys of maternity clothes shopping. Mia has offered to come with me to help pick out some key items, but I'll try to drag Kate away from work, valuing her opinion slightly more than Mia's - after all I don't want to the leave the store with a wardrobe resembling that of Barbie!

As the doors slide open I see Andrea jump up from her desk, clearly not expecting visitors to his office any time soon.

"Mrs Grey!" She screeches, making her way towards me, hastily shuffling across the floor in her Jimmy Choos. Olivia bolts upright in her seat, mirroring Andrea's expression.

"Andrea." I smile, taking in her blondeness. It's like looking at clones coming here to Christian's work - they all look the exact mirror of one another. All blonde and perfect. I stand meakly in her presence, soaked from the rain that the umbrella failed to protect me from, in a skirt that's getting to small for me and heels that are making me want to rip my feet off and throw them from the window.

"What a lovely surprise. May I offer my congratulations to you! Mr Grey told us all this morning! I've never seen him so happy!" She beams and her smile radiates throughout the room. She's sincere; she really is happy for us, either that, or she's just glad that Christian's not biting her head off! Probably the latter.

"Is Mr Grey free?"

"I have no idea, he's in his office. Has been for a while. He's asked for no calls or visitors, Mrs Grey. I can try him for you?" She mutters making her way back to her desk.

"No, it's fine, I'll just go straight in." Her eyes widen, exasperated at my idea.

"Are you sure?"

"Of course. Why wouldn't I be?" In other words, he's my husband and I can do whatever the hell I like.

"No, of course not Mrs Grey. Can I get you anything, water?"

"No I'm fine thank you."

I pass her, noting the look she glares towards Olivia, both of them clearly shocked that I'm going to just barge into his office with permission. It's not until I realise that they've never seen anyone even come close to standing up to Christian's requests, that my mind settles slightly. Yes ladies, take note, this is how you deal with your workaholic husband.

I push the door to his office open without knocking, to see him pacing the floor behind his desk, on his BlackBerry. He's running his fingers through his hair, the way he does when he's angry over something. _Happiest you've seen him my ass!_

"What the fuck did I tell you?" He shouts over to me. For a brief moment I wonder if he's referring to the person on other end of the call, until he turns in my direction. I freeze to the spot as his eyes bore a hole into me. He glares at me for a second, full of anger, until he sees that it's me at his door. His face softens, closing his eyes and taking in a deep breath, before returning to a content Christian.

"What? No. Just deal with it okay?" He hangs up, slipping his phone into his trouser pocket. I close the door behind me, then make my way over to him.

I wrap my arms around his waist, holding onto him, trying to bring us both back to our happy place. Back to our little bubble.

"I'm sorry baby, I didn't mean to shout at you." He cups the back of my neck, massaging it slightly, pressing me into his chest further.

"I know. It's just one of those days."

"What are you doing here?" He stoops down a little to kiss the top of my head, as I breathe in his scent: body wash, cologne and Christian.

"I had to come see you. I had to get away from it all." I feel the first of many tears fall from my eyes, but I assume they are through frustration over the whole Danielle business, rather than emotional tears.

"Shh, baby. Come sit, tell me what happened." He takes my hand and leads me over to his chair, sitting down on it before pulling me into his lap. This is my favourite place.

"I got all shouty back at work." I frown, mortified at my outburst. It really wasn't me at all!

"Shouty? How do you mean 'shouty'?" I look down at my knotted fingers, the tears still falling from my face.

"I blew my top at Danielle."

"Who's Danielle? More importantly, how the fuck did she piss you off?" His voice changes slightly, reverting back to work mode Christian.

"She's the one I hired to look after the place whilst I was otherwise disposed."

"Oh right, so what did she do?" He strokes away the tears, pulling my hair out of my face and placing it behind my ear.

"Well, I told everyone in the meeting, about the baby. She congratulated me but then went all bitchy by saying I should go on maternity leave now! Saying I should _'take a step back'_ and 'concentrate on the baby'." I imitate her words as I tell him.

"And you got angry over that? Baby, she has a point."

"Don't fucking side with her! Christian, she's trying to get my job! She said, and I quote, 'I can do your job with my hands tied behind my back!' She thinks she's going to be in charge when I leave!"

"She actually said that?"

"Yes! I should have noticed before, but she's always been so 'don't worry, take all the time you need, I have everything under control.' Christian she really does want me out of Grey Publishing!"

"She's fired. I'll get her papers sent over, she'll be out before the end of the day."

"Christian -"

"No, Ana. She stressed you out, she's trying to get to the top of the pecking order and more importantly, she pissed off my wife. She's out on her fucking ear."

I look him in the eye and reach up to stroke his face, his stubble tickling my fingers as I run them across his lips.

"Don't. Let me deal with her. I think it'd be a whole lot better watching her squirm as I take away all of her priviledges, showing her who's in charge!"

"Mrs Grey! Where the hell has this come from?" He raises his eyebrow at me, inspecting me for alien activity or trying to find the woman he married.

"I guess the little invader you've implanted in here is taking after you already! I was very Christian Grey earlier."

"How so?"

"Stern, bossy, pissed off and shouty. I had to try so hard to not punch her."

"Shit, I guess Blip's got my anger problems." We both giggle.

I snuggle into his chest a little more. His hands reach down and pull my face to his, kissing me chastely, slipping his tongue in my mouth, exploring me, finding mine. I groan as it sends shivers trickling down my spine, right through to my sex.

"One minute." He whispers into my mouth, breathing heavily.

He reaches over to the phone on his desk, sliding his chair across the floor, never letting me go. He pulls the phone to his ear and presses a few buttons.

"Andrea, leave Mrs Grey and I in private. No calls or interruptions. Yes." He throws the receiver down, before pushing his lips to mine once more. "Now, Mrs Grey, where were we?" I giggle as I shift in his lap, hitching my skirt up my thighs so I can move to straddle him, feeling his erection pushing against my thigh.

"Hm, I think you were about to make my day a whole lot better!" I fist my fingers through his hair, pushing him back in his chair. His hands trace my back, reaching my behind, squeezing it and pushing my hips further into him, rubbing against him. I groan as his hand reaches my panties.

"I hope you're not fond of these?" He breathes as his fingers make light work of ripping my panties apart, throwing them across the room. His hands leave me briefly, leaving me restless for his touch. I hear him tug at his zipper and instinctively move back, further down his legs to help him pull down his pants down. He springs to life, in throbbing glory. I fist my hand around him, pumping him, watching his mouth form a perfect O, before rising on my feet positioning myself over him.

In one swift moment he slams me down onto me, I scream out, relishing in his length, his fullness inside me.

I rise up and down, meeting his thrusts as he holds me by the hips, steading my rhythm.

"Baby, I need it. Harder. Please." I scream to him, begging him.

"Oh, Ana!" He forces me down onto him, pushing further, deeper. My muscles start to tighten around him and the early ripples of climax begin to spread through me. "Yes, Ana, let it go. Come for me baby." His words break me, tipping me over the edge. I throw my head back giving in, screaming his name as I come over him. He thrusts once more before stilling and pouring himself in me.

"God, Ana." I slump forward, catching my breath, looking him in the eyes. "I love you Mrs Grey."

"I love you too."

* * *

We lie there, spent, on the floor. I'm sprawled over his chest, his fingers running seamlessly up and down my spine. I'm Ana again. No more the monster of Grey.

"Hm, I love it when you come and visit me." His hand reaches my hair, massaging my scalp.

"I love being here with you."

His phone starts buzzing in his trouser pocket, sending vibrations through the fabric, tickling my leg as I rest against him."

"I'm sorry." He sits up, pulling his phone out of his pocket. I lie down on my back, staring up at the ceiling as he takes the call.

"Grey. What? How? We changed everything, moved it over to the new server. No. Call Barney and the others, fill them in. Give me ten." I sit upright as he throws his BlackBerry down, unphased to the fact he could easily smash it against the marble flooring of his office.

"Baby, what's wrong?" I reach out and place my hand on his shoulder. He sinks his head into his hands, resting his arms on his knees, pulled up into his chest. "Christian?"

"We've had another security breach. They've tried to hack the files again. I need to go and talk to Barney. This shit needs to end now!"

He hurls himself from the floor, adjusting himself. I follow suit, raising from the floor, grabbing hold of the desk to push myself up, still weak from our afternoon rendezous. I pull my skirt down, and rush over to grab what's left of my panties ready to shove them in my purse. Christian is standing over by the door, ready to leave. I look over at him as I pick up my bag from his desk, shoving my panties inside and doing up the zipper.

"What files are they trying to get?" I mumble across to him.

"Grey Publishing."

"What?"

"Finance documents, statements. You name it, they want it."

"Why would someone here want to know that? It's nothing to do with them!"

"That's what I'm trying to find out, so I fire their ass!"

"Do I look okay?"

"Perfect." He smiles over at me, though I know he doesn't mean it. All this business with untrustworthy staff has got to him. If there's anything Christian hates the most it's people who cross him.

I walk over to him, ready to leave his office with him. He pulls me into a hug before he opens the door.

"I do love you Ana. So much."

"I know you do."

As I pull out of his hold I'm drawn to the wall of artwork. I'm pulled back to when I first came here to interview him, when I gazed up at the black and white pictures dotted on the wall. There's a new addition. It's unlike all the others; still black and white, but with red thrown into the mix. Confusion fills my mind. Christian doesn't have colour in his office. He likes it clinical, straight forward, completely black or white, no blurred boundaries. Similar to his way of thinking and attitude to business.

"Is that new?" I question him. He turns to face the wall, taking in my observation.

"Yes."

"Where did you get it from?" I press him further. He remains tight lipped and reserved. "Christian?"

"It was a gift." He reaches for the door, opening it, his attempt of getting me out of his office as quickly as possible.

"Who from?"

We step out of his office and he leads me hand in hand over to the elevator, ignoring both Andrea and Olivia. I look up at him through my lashes, studying his distorted face.

"Christian, who gave you the picture?"

He pulls me into the elevator, pressing for the first floor.

"No one important."

My heart sinks knowing there are only two possibilites. Knowing that he's lying to me.


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: The characters portrayed in this story reflect those in E L James's Fifty Shades Trilogy, therefore they remain her property. The plot and themes in this story are those of the author. The author is in no way affiliated with James. No copyright infringement intended.**

**Once again thank you for your support! I cannot express how much it means to me! :) You can find me on twitter infamousfanfic if you want :) Please, please, please keep reviewing! It really shows me how I'm doing. **

**Chapter 10 will follow this one soon, as I already have it planned out.**

**Much love! :)**

* * *

We stand in silence as the doors close, sealing us in the lift. I stand there nervous in his company, with my hands knotted in front of me. After everything we've been through over the past several months, over the whole time we've known each other, he's still keeping things from me. If it was 'no one important' who gave him the picture, why would he hide it from me? Why can't he tell me? My brain goes into overload trying to work him out.

_'__No one important'_. That could be anyone! Immediately her name springs to mind, thinking back to how Grace was behaving at the party a few days ago - does she know? Is that why she and Carrick were acting weird, because Christian is still in contact with her? I turn to look at him through the corner of my eye; his face is cold, expressionless and tired. Where has my Christian gone? The Christian that just took away all of my dramas and anger. Instead its place is now filled with yet more stress and frustration.

The lift jumps to a holt landing at the first floor. Christian steps forward as the doors open open, ready to exit. As he makes his way out, I press for reception, hunting my BlackBerry from my purse, ready to call Sawyer to come get me.

"Ana?" I look up from my purse to see Christian standing in the doorway of the lift, preventing them from closing. "What are you doing?"

"I'm going to call Sawyer to come get me, to take me home."

"No. Come. Now." He reaches out his hand and waits for me to take it. I'm frozen for a second before I reluctantly slip my hand into his.

Pulling me from the elevator I stumble, catching my heel in the door. I regain myself, shaking it off. He wasn't watching, just focused on leading me to wherever we're going.

"Christian, where are we going?"

"To meet with security. We need to sort this out."

"But why am I coming with you? It'd be best if I just left."

He stops as if he's hit a brick wall, swivelling on his heel to face me. "Anastasia, I own Grey Publishing. You will be the President within a year, it'll be yours. You need to know as much as I do. There are no secrets between us."

_LIAR!_ I stare at him, shaking my head.

"Ana. I have no secrets from you." He reaches forward to stroke my face but I recoil, rejecting him. I falter as I watch him twist from the inside; rejection hurts him the most. _Christian, I just want you to be honest with me_.

He turns back on his heel, heading down the corridor, running his hand through his hair. I follow him silently until we reach a large silver door with the name 'Dawson' on it. He reaches forward and opens the door, pushing it aside, allowing me to enter the room first.

The room is rather small in comparison to the rest of Grey House - well, what I've seen of it. There are no windows, just an air conditioning machine whirling above us. A series of computer screens stack the far wall, each with an image of various rooms here in the building. I follow them, noticing the one of Christian's lobby, just outside his office - Andrea is in focus, typing away at her computer. My eyes drift around the rest of the screens, thankfully noting that there is no feed coming from Christian's office. At least no one saw anything! Was this a deliberate feature employed by Christian? A cold shiver shoots down my spine as I dread to think how many fleeting affairs have happened in that room; on that desk. Would Christian have allowed his subs to come to his workplace?

"Mr Grey." A young man rises from a chair in front of the screens; I hadn't even noticed him sitting there. He's wearing a black suit, similar to the one Taylor normally wears. His blonde hair is sharply formed into a smart buzz cut. I guess security guys all have the same style, especially if they work for Mr Grey.

"Dawson. This is my wife, Anastasia." Dawson reaches out offering his hand, I take it solemnly. I let my hand drop soon after contact is made. I may be annoyed at him but I'd rather not send him into a complete meltdown, over some petty jealous concern that another man has even dared to touch my hand. His property.

"Mrs Grey." He smiles at me before returning his gaze back to Christian.

"Developments?" Christian pulls out a chair from the desk to the left of us, sliding it behind my legs. His hand rests on my shoulder, gently pushing me down onto the seat.

"Yes Sir. We had another breach this morning, Mr Grey. Again the files they are trying to gain access to are those of Grey Publishing, Sir."

"Yes, I already know that. What else have you uncovered?" I throw my head back looking at Christian, standing with his arms crossed in front of him. _I'd hurry up if I was you Dawson, he's not going to take any prisoners in the mood he's in right now_.

"Of course, sorry Mr Grey." Dawson shifts, clearing his throat, avoiding any eye contact him. It's pleasant to find that I'm not the only one who feels belittled and childlike in his presence. "Welch managed to track the files they have tried to pull, they're all financial sir. Roll numbers, figures for the sale of SIP. Mr Grey, we've also uncovered that they have tried to get access to the personal work areas of several senior management in Grey Publishing."

"Who?"

"The financial head, Mr Lowerstoft; Head of Public Relations, Ms Broad; And that of Mrs Grey's, along with your assistant ma'am." He reads from memory.

They're trying to hack my files?

"Have you gained any progress in determining the source?"

"No sir, whoever they are they're using a portable device, unregistered to any fixed location. We believe that they are connecting via a wireless transmitter. But for the time being Mr Grey, the server remains unknown. We can't track where they are accessing it from."

"Continue as you were, make sure you cross check every port, even if it takes you all fucking day and night. Call Welch to have passwords and key codes changed within the hour."

"Yes sir."

"Ana." Christian holds out his hand to me, pulling me up from the chair to swiftly make our departure from the room.

He leads me back to the elevator at the far end of the corridor, gripping onto my hand, tugging me fiercely.

"Ana, please try to keep up."

"Christian where are we going now?" I whine, fed up with his attitude, even if I am partly to blame for it.

"Home. You've skipped lunch."

* * *

"Thank you Gail." I whisper to her as she places the Caesar Salad in front of me.

"You're welcome Ana." Gail quickly exits the kitchen, leaving Christian and I in silence once more.

I lift my fork and make a start on my lunch. Blip is swirling around like crazy, clearly pissed that I ignored his routine.

"Ana, I do not appreciate the way you've acted today." He voice cuts through me, stabbing me, ripping me apart.

"I don't appreciate your attitude."

"For fuck's sake Ana, you're supposed to be looking after yourself. It's not just you anymore, you need to stop thinking about yourself."

"How dare you! I am looking after myself, so I missed one meal. If you haven't realised I came to see you after a shitty morning, only to be bombarded with yet more shit!"

I push my plate away, sending it flying over to the other side of counter. I swivel in my stool, jumping down. I can't believe he's still making a big deal over this. Haven't I endured enough, what with the lecture on the way to the car about not eating?

"Anastasia, get back here and finish your meal."

I spin quickly, scowling at him. "Screw you. You can't tell me what to do Christian. In case you've forgotten I'm your _wife_, not a sub or employee. I do what I want, not what you tell me. But then again, when do you ever tell me anything?"

Stomping out of the room I head in the direction of our bedroom. I can hear him sliding his stool across the floor behind me, to follow me. I slam the door, pacing for a few moments. How dare he talk to me like that! His footsteps echo from outside the door. I can't even look at him right now. Feeling the tears build up in my eyes, I rush off into the bathroom as he enters the bedroom.

"Ana, please, stop." His voice is soft and calm, begging.

"Just leave me alone." I shut the door behind me, turning the lock. I slide down the door, landing on a heap on the floor. I pull my legs up to my chest, wrapping my arms around them, resting my head against my knees.

"Ana please, let me in." He knocks softly on the door.

"Please, just leave me alone." I struggle to catch my breath as the tears continue to fall, relentlessly.

"Baby, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to shout at you."

"I know." I mumble, wiping my nose with the back of my hand, unable to tell if he heard me. My throat is sore and throbbing.

"I love you Ana." He whispers back through the door, sinking against the other side. "Ana, I'm not leaving you. I'm never going to leave you."


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: The characters portrayed in this story reflect those in E L James's Fifty Shades Trilogy, therefore they remain her property. The plot and themes in this story are those of the author. The author is in no way affiliated with James. No copyright infringement intended. **

**Hope you enjoy this chapter. I originally had things planned out a little differently, but I changed my mind at the last minute! **

**Much, much more to come! **

**:)**

* * *

"Ana, I'll sit here all night if I have to." I sniff loudly, wiping my nose again with the back of my hand. "I'm not leaving you when you're like this."

I shift from the floor, crawling over to the counter to grab some toilet paper to wipe away the stickiness on my cheeks, left from my tears. My legs are numb and tingling from sitting in one position for a considerable amount of time. I have no idea how long I have sat here for; long enough to calm myself down and stop blubbering like a baby, though I think I've probably just ran out of tears. Long enough for my stomach to start growling, echoing throughout the room.

"I heard that." I roll my eyes as I turn to face the door, wishing him to leave me alone. "Baby, you know what happens when you roll your eyes at me." God, what is he psychic?

I reach out and unlock the door. Opening it slowly, Christian turns to look at me. He had he back up against the door almost in the same position I was in - all curled up and scared. He quickly scrambles to his feet, standing in front of me.

"Food?" His voice breaks and his brow lowers. I hate seeing him this way: scared, upset and tired. I know he has cried, I can see it from the red around his eyes.

I nod my head walking past him heading in the direction of our closet. I feel him staring at me as I change out of my pencil skirt and blouse, throwing on a pair of old sweats and vest, though he never says a word. It's almost as if he's a ghost. Scooping up my clothes from the floor I feel a sharp pain tug through my stomach. I wince and double over, grabbing my stomach as the pain spreads. Concentrating on my breathing I manage to ride it out, and in seconds it's gone. Reverting back to an upright stance, I worry it'll come back but it doesn't.

Christian follows me as I lead the way back to the kitchen, walking gingerly. The sharp spasm in my stomach has left me a little shaken, though I recall reading somewhere in one of the many journals Christian has made me read, that these are normal if they're few and far between. _'Your body's way of adapting to the process of pregnancy; preparing for the transition from woman to mother.' _He's keeping his distance, following from a few feet.

I settle into one of the barstools and watch him gracefully slide across the kitchen over to the refridgerator, opening it to see what leftovers Mrs Jones has kindly left us.

"Spaghetti?" He questions holding up a blue container. I screw up my news to it, the mere sound of it making me queasy.

He rummages a little further. "Chicken?"

I widen my eyes and nod my head lightly until a feel a little bile rise up into my throat. I hold my hand up to my mouth to stop myself from throwing up. Christian takes a step closer to me, placing the dish on the counter. I hold up my hand to him, stopping him from coming any closer - somehow I don't think he would appreciate my vomit all over his shirt. When it goes back down I'm able to take a deep breath, a sure fire way to cool me down.

"No chicken."

"Is that Blip talking?"

I nod my head, concerned that if I try to talk the whole kitchen will need a deep clean from the attack of Ana's projectile vomit. Gail would definitely not appreciate that first thing in the morning!

"Ana, it'd be easier if you just tell me what you want." He closes the fridge door, having exhausted all the suitable options.

"What if we don't have it?"

"I'll send someone to get it."

"Can't we go?" I sit back in my stool, resting my forearms on the counter. For the first time I'm looking him square on, eye to eye. Scared grey to concerned blue.

"Do you know what you want?" He rubs his eyes before resting his head back down on his hands, leaning across the counter.

I nod my head enthusiastically at him, grinning. I guess when you get a craving for something you need it there and then!

"Okay then, I'll get my jacket and keys. Do you need to change first?" He stands upright, heading towards his study.

"No, I'll just grab my shoes." I slide off the stool and make my way to the bedroom. I slip into my converse and throw on one of Christian's sweaters; it's miles too big for me, but the wool is soft and comforting, that, and it smells of him.

As I make my way over to the foyer Christian is ready, jacket on and keys in hand, with his BlackBerry to his ear.

"No we'll be fine. I don't know. Taylor, just take the night to yourself, we will be fine. She'll be fine with me." He hangs up sharply, pushing it into his pocket. "You ready to go?"

I smile at him as we step into the elevator.

* * *

"I didn't exactly think we'd end up here when you said you knew what you wanted." He turns to face me from the drivers seat of the R8. I didn't tell him where I wanted to go, instead telling him to just drive, in circles if need be, until I see it. A McDonalds.

"What? It's what the baby needs, who am I to argue with that?" I grin at him. The atmosphere between us has evaporated slowly, but I'm not letting this go. He should tell me, not keep secrets from me. I will get it out of him eventually. Hopefully sooner, rather than later.

"Well, whatever my wife and child want, they get." He reaches over and strokes my stomach through his sweater, looking me in the eyes. I know this is his way of apologising, but come on Grey, I need to hear the words! "Drive-thru or eating in?"

"Drive-thru. Can we eat in the parking lot? I don't really want to go home just yet."

"Of course. Whatever you want." He smiles weakly; _damn Christian, it was just an argument_. Anyone would have thought I'd announced the eighth plague to the world!

"Well in that case I want a Big Mac, double fries, a large milkshake and a coke!" I giggle.

"Is that enough?"

"Hm, maybe. If not then we can always go through again!"

"Would Mrs Grey like a diet coke to go with her meal?" I watch him as his mouth rises into a smirk.

"I'd better, gotta keep an eye on my weight."

After pulling into the drive-thru and stunning the server with the size of our order, Christian settles the car into a lone bay at the back of the parking lot. It's directly under one of the street lights, meaning that I can at least see my food before shovelling it into my face.

I unwrap my burger and admire it lovingly before taking a huge bite out of it.

"Oh my god, this is heaven!" I slump back into my seat, revelling in its heavenly goodness.

"Way to break a man's heart." Christian mumbles as he takes a bite from his own burger.

"Baby, look at me." Swivelling in my seat so I can see him clearly. I place my burger, reluctantly, back into the bag. "Christian, what happened before, I didn't mean for it to get that... _heated_."

"Ana -" he turns to face me, but I interrupt him, raising my hand to silence him.

"No, Christian. I guess it must be hormones or something, but I shouldn't have just stormed off the way I did. I just got so angry and upset."

"Why?"

"Because you're keeping stuff from me. I know that you're probably thinking, in that thick skull of yours, that it's for the best, to not upset me anymore, but it's not! Please, can you just tell me who it was? Please Christian, who sent you the picture?"

He throws his head back against the headrest, closing his eyes and breathing deeply.

"Christian, just tell me. Was it her?" He rolls his head over to look at me, the rest of his unchanged. His eyebrow is raised, full of confusion. "Is it from Elena?"

"Fuck no! God Ana, you really think I'd take anything from her? After everything she's done?"

"I just needed to know. I mean it's a bit suspicious, first I hear your Mom all pissy talking about her, then I see new artwork in your office and you won't tell me who it's from! What else am I supposed to think?"

I push back against my seat, still facing him.

"Ana, it's wasn't Elena. I swear to you. I swear on Blip's life, it wasn't her. I haven't seen or spoken to her since I told you I wouldn't." He stretches his hand out over to me. I take it, slipping my fingers into his.

"I believe you."

"I love you Ana. Both of you."

"So are you going to tell me who sent them?"

His mouth opens, on the verge of telling me, when the car phone blares at us. I roll my eyes as he shrugs, proceeding to answer it.

"Grey."

"Sir, Welch has contacted me. They have made progress. They've been able to identify the access code being used to reach the database at Grey Publishing." Taylors voice echos throughout the car. I turn to face Christian, watching him rub his face with his hand. Just the thought of all this trouble is making him upset and frustrated. I want nothing more than to crawl across the car and surrender myself to his lap, but I know I wouldn't be able to do it, not feeling as hungry as I do right this minute.

"So, who's number is it?" Christian barks back into the intercom.

I reach into my bag and grab a handful of fries, shoving them into my mouth.

I almost choke as I hear Taylors reply, feeling as if I've been punched dead centre in the gut by Mike Tyson.

"Jack Hyde's sir."


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: The characters portrayed in this story reflect those in E L James's Fifty Shades Trilogy, therefore they remain her property. The plot and themes in this story are those of the author. The author is in no way affiliated with James. No copyright infringement intended.**

**I'm glad you're all enjoying it! Sooooooo much more coming up for Ana and Christian. Life with Fifty is never easy or straightforward! But who wants peace when you can have Mr Grey? ;)**

**I wrote chapter 11 and 12 in one go, splitting them up - so remember to hit next when you get to the end of this one!**

**Keep reading and reviewing! **

**Much love! :)**

* * *

"Hyde?" Christian's mouth twists expelling his name with disgust.

"Yes, Sir."

"I want a full debrief upon my return. Call Welch and Barney, get them to the apartment." Christian's lips press into a hard line across his face, his eyes full of pain just at the mention of that name. After two months of peace, away from him and what he did, we're being haunted again.

"Of course sir, anything else you would like me to do?"

"Brief Sawyer and Ryan with the arrangement. I want it in place by the morning."

"Yes, Sir."

With that Christian ends the call, slamming his hands hard against the steering wheel causing our drinks in the cup holders to shake and spill. I curl back into my seat, wrapping my arms around my knees that have found their way to my chest.

"Christian?" I remain facing forward, head stooped low. "What if he -"

"Stop!" His voice hits me like a slap, hard across the face. "Ana, just stop. We don't know anything yet."

"But, how?"

"I don't fucking know! I don't know anything until I talk to them."

My head sinks onto my knees. I can't believe this is happening again. I don't know if I can do this again. What if I'm not lucky this time? What if something happens to Blip, or Christian? A silent, uncontrollable sob forces its way out of my chest and I feel Christian's hand grab my shoulder, cupping it and squeezing.

"Ana, look at me."

I slowly lift my head and peer up looking into his eyes. He's surprisingly calm and coherent. _It's all a façade; he's putting it on for you_. My subconscious rolls her eyes at my innocence.

"Ana?" His hand skims down my arm, reaching over to place my hand in his. "Don't let your mind runaway with you. There's no point fussing over this until we know the facts. I will not let anything happen to you again. Either of you." He pulls my hand up to his lips, kissing my engagement and wedding ring, his stubble tickling the back of my hand. "Trust me Ana."

I nod in agreement; I don't think he'd ever allow anything to happen to me again, not after the last time, even if he has to lock me away for the rest of my life, shackled to a bed. _Somehow that doesn't sound too bad_. My inner goddess is jumping up and down at the thought of being tied up, surrending to Christian 24/7, but my subconscious shakes her off bringing back the reality of the situation.

"Come on, let's head back. The sooner I can deal with this shit the better." He passes his food bag over to me, starting the car and pulling out of the parking lot. I stare blankly out of the windscreen intermittently reaching down, grabbing some fries and bringing them to my mouth. I feel sick from hunger knowing I haven't eaten since breakfast this morning, I glance over at the built-in control panel and check the time. 11:49PM.

_I'll be strong for you, Blip. Nothing is going to happen to you, Daddy and I are going to make sure of that. I promise._

The ride home is short, Christian hitting the interstate at eighty, a desperate attempt to get us home quickly to get in on the meeting with Taylor and the others. I gather our food and wait for Christian to meet me at my door.

"Mrs Grey -" he smirks at me as I slide out of the R8. "I'm happy now that you've eaten."

"I know, Blip's happy too. Would you hate me if I finished off yours?" I twist my bottom lip and try the best puppy dog look I can master.

"I could never hate you Mrs Grey." He pulls me up and into his chest, wrapping his arms around me and nuzzling into my hair. "Hm, I could stay here like this all night."

"Me too, but I really need to pee!"

Christian laughs hysterically as we hastily make our way over to the lift. He holds me close to him and everything from before is forgotten in these precious few seconds, until the doors open and we face Taylor and the others, forcing us back to realtime. All of them have stern looks spread across their faces, I wonder curiously if it's from the stress from tonights discovery or if it's from tiredness. I glance over to Ryan, he looks exhausted with his hair strewn in different directions and his shirt unbuttoned at the collar.

"Baby, I'm going to go and deal with this, why don't you go and finish your dinner and have a lie down?" Christian whispers in my ear.

"Sure, are you going to be long?"

"I don't know, it could take a while."

I look up at him, taking in his messy hair and tired eyes. Will he tell me what he's going to found out, or is he going to keep that from me? If it is Hyde I have the right to know. _You have the right anyway, you're his wife_.

"I'll tell you everything when I'm finished." Reading my mind he reassures me, cupping my face with his hands. "I told you Ana, I have no secrets from you."

He stoops down and kisses me briefly, sensing the uncomfortable atmosphere filling the room from prying eyes all waiting for Mr Grey to step into the study. Christian looks me straight in the eyes, smiling at me, before releasing me and leading the others into the study, silently closing the door behind them.

I rock back and forth on my toes pondering. Now what do I do? Suddenly the need to pee becomes urgent and uncontrollable, so I run as fast as I can, crossed legged, to the bathroom. When I'm finished I walk back into the bedroom, shrugging out of Christian sweater before folding it and pushing it into one of the drawers in the dresser. I run my fingers across his various sweaters, sweat pants and t-shirts. His things lying seamlessly beside mine. His and Hers.

I hear my phone buzzing from inside my purse, set down in it's usual spot over by the door. I back up towards it, rummaging through my bag trying to find it. Eventually grabbing it I look down: new text message. Before opening it I pull back the duvet of our bed, crawling beneath it, getting comfortable and breathing in his smell from his pillow. I unlock my phone, looking at my background - our scan of Blip - _how can I love you so much and you're not even here yet_? Opening up the message I see that it's from Kate:

*GREY! WHERE HAVE U BEEN? U'VE BEEN M.I.A! CALL ME! K XO*

I tap out a quick reply to her.

*HI! I'M SORRY, THINGS HAVE BEEN A LITTLE HECTIC OVER HERE. A X*

*IS EVERYTHING OK? :/ K XO*

*YES, EVERYTHING'S FINE. HOW ARE YOU? A X* I reply, lying to her. I don't even know what's going on; I don't know if everything is okay or not.

She replies quicker than Christian does.

*SAME OLD. WE NEED A URGENT SHOPPING TRIP. ASAP. I NEED YOUR SHOPPER PERSON! BIG FUNCTION FOR WORK COMING UP, NEED TO LOOK SEXY ;) K XO*

*WE DO! I'M GOING TO NEED SOME MATERNITY STUFF SOON, GETTING FAT! A X*

*LIAR! YOU FREE TOMORROW? K XO*

*I DON'T KNOW, CALL YOU IN THE MORNING? A X*

*SURE THING. LATERS K XO*

I grin down at my phone, rolling my eyes. Almost every member of the family has started using Elliot's saying: Christian, Kate, even I use it from time to time, and just recently Mia - though I suspect she's picked it up from Ethan. I wonder if she's managed to make any progress with him? They looked pretty cute together on Halloween, even if he was mortified to be wearing tights and jumping around like a lunatic. I chuckle as I think back to how Mia insisted on being called 'Tink' all evening, a dream come true for the youngest Grey.

I kiss the screen of my BlackBerry as I lock it; My Blip. Mine and Christian's little Blip. I smile putting it down on the bedside table nearest to me, switching off the light. As the room is plunged into darkness I submit myself to sleep, allowing my body to shut down.

* * *

As I wake slowly I know I'm being watched.

I have my back to him, facing the floor to ceiling window overlooking Seattle. I let my eyes adjust to the light and take in the calm of Seattle at this height, knowing that below people are rushing around, ready to pull their hair out from the everyday stresses of marriage, work and children. Everything I have to look forward to as soon as I roll over and face him. Seeing in the new day.

Rolling over, onto my back, I catch him lying on top of the covers fully dressed in his suit and tie. My favourite tie; the silver one. I smirk at the memory of the many times both he and I have worn that tie.

"Good morning." I mumble, stretching my arms and legs out.

"Sleep well?" He replies quietly, twirling my hair through his long fingers.

"Yes, I did. I always do when I sleep on your side." I beam up at him, grinning. "Not as well as when I'm in your arms though."

"I'm sorry. I didn't finish until 5. I didn't want to disturb you." His face twists slightly.

"You haven't slept?" I question him with a worried tone. He shakes his head, smiling lightly trying to settle me. "What time is it?"

"8:35. I'm leaving in a few minutes. I just wanted to sit with you for a while. I like watching you sleep."

"Whoa. Stalker alert!" I smirk as I roll on to my side, to rest against him. "I'm not going to work today. One more day can't hurt."

Christian continues to massage my scalp as my head lies on his chest. "I'm glad you said that, because you weren't going anyway."

I sit up, scowling at him. "Why?"

"After yesterday, I think it's best that you have an Ana day. I've already called Hannah and told her, she's going to deal with everything."

Aw, there's my Fifty! I reach over and kiss him chastely, slipping my tongue gently into his mouth, exploring my Christian. A groan ripens from deep within his chest, escaping through into my mouth.

"I wish I had enough time to fuck you, but feeling the way I do right now I don't think I could settle for just one round!" I bite down on my lip to stop me from breaking out into a grin. I love him when he's like this. "You're biting your lip again." He reaches over pulling my lip from my teeth with his finger, I kiss the tip lightly before he pulls away.

"I'm going shopping today, with Kate."

"And?" He prompts me, watching me intently as I sit forward.

"Whoever you want me to take." I roll my eyes; I guess overbearing Fifty is back!

"Sawyer and Ryan. Everywhere you go, they follow. I mean it."

"Yes Sir." I salute him, mocking him and his requests.

He rises from the bed shaking his head. I watch him as he adjusts his tie, getting into CEO mode. He looks down at his watch and grabs his suit jacket from the end of the bed, heading out of the door.

"Laters baby!" He shouts out to me, leaving me in here alone, hungry and wanting him.

After a quick shower and changing into my navy dress I examine myself in the mirror, staring at my bump. I do have a bump now, albeit a small mound sitting below my belly button, but he's definitely in there. To anyone else they'd just assume I've been packing away too many bagels and donuts, not that I have a little person growing in there. I pull my hair back into a hair tie and add a little mascara to my eyes, ready to meet Sawyer and Ryan in the foyer. I called Kate shortly after Christian left for the office, she's meeting me at Neimans. Caroline is expecting us at 11; she's emptying the entire store for Kate and I, apparently one of Christian's requests! I can imagine him now, all stern and sharp over the phone: _'No one, I repeat, no one else is to step foot in that store whilst my wife is there.' _

I slip on my wedges and run my hand up my leg as I stand, wishing it was his hand making it's way up my leg, to my inner thigh, brushing against me, teasing me. I pant as I feel myself tighten and clench down there, longing for his touch. _Get it together! You can't go meet with Kate looking all flustered, without actually having spent the morning screwing your brains out! _I shake it off, pushing it to the back of my mind - time to spend some of Mr Grey's hard earned money on a new wardrobe, to accomodate his little gift growing inside me!


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer: The characters portrayed in this story reflect those in E L James's Fifty Shades Trilogy, therefore they remain her property. The plot and themes in this story are those of the author. The author is in no way affiliated with James. No copyright infringement intended.**

**Sorry for any grammatical errors, I have read through it but it is getting late here in England, 1.19am! **

**Hope you enjoy! Will upload more tomorrow! **

**:)**

* * *

Kate steps out of the changing room wearing a red cocktail dress, cut off mid-thigh, off the shoulder and pushing her cleavage up into her throat.

"Whoa!" My eyes widen as she stand there, grinning with her hands on her hips.

"Is it the one?" She questions, flicking her blonde hair over her shoulder. She knows this is the one. She should do after trying on almost every single dress Caroline had, matching Kate's measurements and skin tone.

"Definitely." I nod, grateful that she's now happy and ready for her work party, thing tomorrow evening. Kate is quite possibly the only person I know who would choose her shoes first, then try to find a dress to accommodate them! Shoes are always the last thing I think about, hence why Christian always takes care of that for me - the benefit for Coping Together, when we dined out celebrating our pregnancy officially, after I was given the all clear from hospital, and Mia's party a few days ago. He really does think of everything; a true perfectionist.

"Is it gonna get Elliot up and rearing to go?"

"Absolutely, he'd have to be crazy not to!"

She giggles as she sways in front of the mirror, emphasising her engagement ring. I've never seen her so happy! I know she's itching to become the second Mrs Grey in the family, and to be honest I'm looking forward to her and I becoming sisters, something we could only have dreamed off six months ago!

Kate's managed to settle on new underwear and a purse to go with her dress and shoes, all on Elliot's credit card! I offered to foot the bill for her, but she insisted that Elliot needs to know what he's letting himself in for. I think secretly this might be her way of pitting him off against Christian, hoping he'll take a leap out of Fifty's books and pay for and buy things you neither want or need. Caroline has been patient with both of us this afternoon, me in particular. I've managed to sort out a second trimester and third trimester wardrobe, ready for my bump to grow into the heaps of elastic and hidden support, along with a post baby wardrobe - a few key items suitable for flabby tummy and breastfeeding. I seriously had no idea about nursing bras, breast pads and jeans with elastic in the front, stretchy enough to carry a field of melons in! Why would I? I had no intentions on becoming a mother anytime soon, especially at 22! But now that I am, I can't imagine life any other way! I secretly thank Hannah for cancelling my appointments with Dr Greene every single time I run my hand against my belly. _You're in there because of her! That and because Daddy and Mommy can't keep away from each other!_

Sawyer and Ryan have stuck to Christian's instruction, patrolling the store in a close proximity to us, but far enough to give us some privacy. Kate is uncomfortable around them, constantly looking in their direction. I have to reassure her that they're there for me - just Christian being 'helpful', making a joke that I'll need someone to carry all these bags! I can't tell her the real reason. What would I tell her? 'Oh Kate, remember the guy that kidnapped Mia, tried to blackmail Christian out of millions and put me in hospital? Yeah, well he's back and trying to hack the server at the publishing house!' Even then I wouldn't know if that's the truth; falling asleep last night and waking up late this morning means Christian hasn't had the chance to talk to me yet, about what was said in the meeting. I frown and decide to pull out my BlackBerry to email him, whilst Kate and Caroline discuss whether she should go commando or wear a thong under the dress.

* * *

**From: Anastasia Grey**

**Subject: Promises**

**Date: 3rd November 2011 14:53:10PM**

**To: Christian Grey**

To my lovely Husband,

I hope this morning wasn't too stressful? I was put in a sour mood when you left me this morning. I really do hate it when you work me up into a frenzy then leave me hanging.

I hate bringing this up, so please don't snap at me or get all shouty capitals, but can we please discuss last night? I would really like to know what's going on, that and I would like to apologise for my behaviour.

I love you!

Ana

xxx

* * *

"Ana, you ready?" I glance up to see Kate standing in front of me, hands on hips, changed back into her jeans and hoodie. Very casual today; dress down Thursday.

"Huh?" I frown, confused.

"For lunch? Come on Steele, baby brain got you already?"

"Looks like it. I'll just get Sawyer and Ryan to grab our bags and take them down to the car." I stand heading over to them, Kate reaches out and grabs my arm pulling me back to her.

"Who's car are we taking?" She questions blankly.

"Oh, well we can take my car, Sawyer will take us and Ryan can drive your car. You can drive home from there."

"Are you sure? I mean, you know I love my car more than Elliot right?"

I laugh, knowing that she's being sincere. "Kate, Ryan is ex-FBI. If Christian trusts him enough to drive me around, I'm sure he can handle the 'love of your life'!"

She shrugs in agreement and I head back towards Sawyer, he's standing all military a few feet away. I feel my BlackBerry buzz in my hand. I open up the email and read it as I walk over to speak to him.

* * *

**From: Christian Grey**

**Subject: I stand by my promises**

**Date: 3rd November 2011 14:56:24PM**

**To: Anastasia Grey**

To my perfect, loving, beautiful wife and mother of my unborn child,

This morning was the same old shit.

I'm slightly upset to hear that you were sad when I left, though I'm also glad that you're squirming. All in good time Mrs Grey. Though, it would help if I found you naked on my bed upon my arrival this evening. ;)

I'm a man of my word and I will fill you in. We didn't have time last night, and it would have been rude to wake you. I promise I will tell you everything, please do not worry. We have the situation under control, for now.

How was your shopping trip? Buy anything nice for my benefit?

I love you.

C

x

Christian Grey

Man of his word & CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

* * *

I tap out a quick message in return, slowing my pace to that of a snail.

* * *

**From: Anastasia Grey**

**Subject: I stand by my promises**

**Date: 3rd November 2011 14:59:01PM**

**To: Christian Grey**

I knew you'd enjoy my frustration. I'll think about your suggestion.

Kate and I are going to lunch, Sawyer and Ryan are coming with us. Just checking that this is okay with Sir?

Only if nursing bras get you going?

A

x

* * *

**From: Christian Grey**

**Subject: Flynn would have a field day...**

**Date: 3rd November 2011 15:00:53PM**

**To: Anastasia Grey**

Amazingly enough the idea of your breasts available on demand is highly arousing. Having to share them with Blip in a few months is something I'll have to adjust to.

Of course, as long as they stay with you. No pushing them aside or ditching them. I mean it.

C

x

Christian Grey

CEO in need of his wife, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

* * *

I smile as I finally reach Sawyer. He's looking down at me confused and bewildered from my slow, stumbled walk over to him.

"Sawyer, Kate and I would like to go to lunch now. Can you ask Ryan to take Kate's car?"

"Yes ma'am, though Ryan would need to stay with us."

"I know, I just think it'd be nice if Kate rode with me. She can drive her car home from the restaurant."

He shifts on his feet, I know what he's thinking: Is Mr Grey going to kick my ass if I agree to this?

"I have already spoken to Christian, he's fine with it. You can call him if you like."

"It's not that I don't believe you ma'am, I'm just trying to do my job."

I nod at him. I can't fault him for wanting to remain in employment.

"Can you and Ryan help with our bags, please?" I ask him as I step back, to join Kate who's headed in my direction. He nods before taking out his cell and calling Ryan, who is on the other side of the store checking out the entrances.

On the way down to the car I fire up another email to Christian.

* * *

**From: Anastasia Grey**

**Subject: Compromise?**

**Date: 3rd November 2011 15:12:38PM**

**To: Christian Grey**

We will find some sort of arrangement. You and Blip can rotate! ;)

Of course they will stay with us. But I will be expecting them to sit at a different table to us; Kate and I have girly things to discuss.

I can't wait to see you tonight. How about we talk over dinner, then we can get down and dirty?

I love you more than anything.

Your Ana

xx

* * *

"So, Steele. Is everything still lovey dovey with you and hot-shot?" Kate gets straight to the point whilst tucking into her lunch. We decided to dine at Christian's club, seeing as Neiman's isn't far from here and we can just charge it to his account.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you two are almost out of the honeymoon phase, and what with you being knocked up and all. Has it changed in the bedroom department?"

I almost spit out my water, shocked by her thoughts.

"Kate! I can assure you that being pregnant hasn't changed a thing. If anything, I think it's made it better. I mean, it's hard to be away from him at all!"

"Really? You'd be happy to lie the day away with your legs wrapped around him 24/7?" She eyes me up, unconvinced.

"Well, obviously I'd need to take a break to eat. Blip doesn't like missing meals! Just like Christian!"

"Maybe Christian will find a way to combine the two?" She winks at me and I smile, recalling how I told her about that time back in our apartment - Ben & Jerry & Ana.

We finish our lunch discussing her current wedding plans - Grace is desperate for them to have it at their place, like Christian and I did;some sort of family tradition in the making, but Kate is unconvinced. I gather that Kate is also getting annoyed with Mia poking her nose in to every single detail. I have to remind Kate of the way she behaved during our wedding planning - constantly phoning and emailing with new ideas for things I hadn't even given a second thought to. I also remind Kate that there's a lot to think about, maybe it's a good thing having someone else to burden your concerns with? I know it sure as hell helped me out.

Heading out of the restaurant I call to the serviceman to charge it to Christian's account. It's getting easier accepting that it's our money; having a joint checking account means that I can't say specifically which money is mine, that way I don't have to think about spending it. I still can't adjust to the amount of money in our account, it's enough for six generations of Grey's to live off comfortably! I just keep telling myself that it's all for Blip, for his future.

Sawyer walks us down to the parking lot, where Ryan is waiting with Kate's car. As I turn to face Kate I catch someone in the corner of my eye. It's the girl I saw yesterday, in the car when we were heading over to Christian's office. She's wearing the same clothes, I think this is the only reason why I recognised her, that and her oversized holdall flung over her shoulder. Her blonde highlights bounce the sun off her hair, making it look smooth and shiny - as if she's a model for some useless, expensive shampoo. I squint my eyes trying to get a good look at her, but I can only see her from behind. I turn to Kate and tug on her arm.

"Kate, do you recognise that girl over there?" I pull her over to my side, pointing in her direction.

"The one with the black bag?" I catch her in the corner of my eye, squinting hard. I nod. "Nope, can't say I do, why?"

"I just thought you might, I'm sure I recognise her from somewhere. I'm thinking college, maybe?"

"She sort of reminds me of that Whitney girl, you know the one who lived about a block away from us? Stalked Jose for months until she realised he was hooked on you? Can't be sure though, she's too far back." I shudder at the thought, I've never seen Jose that way, but knowing that he felt that way for me is just weird.

"I suppose. I saw her yesterday as well, I was drawn to her. I guess that explains it then." I shrug it off; mystery solved.

I walk with Kate as she heads over to her car, and bear hug her, seeing her off. Sawyer helps me into the SUV, closing my door behind me. I ask them to play some music to fill the silence in the car, something to make this bearable. I understand Christian wanting to up security, but having two men around 24/7 is going to be tough. One I can cope with, but two? I make a note to press Christian about Prescott. I know he'll flip but he might be swayed.

* * *

Mrs Jones has prepared Beef Stroganoff for us tonight, dishing it up with perfect timing as Christian enters the kitchen. He saunters over to me, gliding effortlessly, rolling up his sleeves and undoing another button on his shirt. I gasp as he pulls me into his arms, pushing his head against my neck, kissing me several times.

"I've missed you." He breaths against my already tingling skin, sending spasms through my core, right down into my sex.

"I've missed you too."

Gail leaves us, ignoring our moment politely, recoiling to her living quarters for the evening.

Christian pulls up into the stool beside me, setting down to his dinner. I wait a customary few seconds until I attack him.

"So, last night?"

He huffs, slowly tilting his head over to me. I raise my eyebrow at him, standing my ground in Mia Grey fashion. "Always eager."

"In more ways than more, but we can get to that bit later. So, what did you find out last night?" I mumble, mouth full of Mrs Jones's delicious food.

"Do you want a play by-play account of everything that was said or just a quick summary?"

I ponder on it for a few seconds, wondering if I can withstand a lecture of everything that was discussed knowing Christian will stick to his word. Instead I opt for the latter.

"Summary please."

"Well -" He dips his fork, scooping up another bit of food, devouring it before pressing on. "The code being used to get into the database was the one Hyde had. With you having worked there before being promoted to editor you already had an access code of your own - your ID number. Resulting in Hyde's being obsolete, but remaining active - an error on someone's behalf. Dawson checked it all out, Hyde is still in police custody, awaiting trial. He has had only medical personnel as visitors, or so we believe. Welch thinks that someone has snuck in and he's offered them the code."

"So he's not out there?" I play around with the food on my plate, eagerly waiting for Christian to tell me more.

"No, there's no way he's getting out. Not this time. My Dad has made sure of that." He grunts.

"One thing I don't understand is why anyone would want these files?"

"Blackmail is the most likely motive, or if Hyde is in on it then he's trying to pick up from where he left off. Holding a grudge just because Grace picked me and not him. Thinking that I've taken his place. Stupid fucking bastard."

"Was anything else discovered?"

"They checked out the IP addresses connected to the code, it's unknown, unrelated to a fixed location. Dawson assumes they're tapping into a free wi-fi hot spot, but it has shown up on one occasion, we're looking into it."

I turn to face him, dropping my fork onto my plate.

"Where?"

He looks over at me, staring straight into my eyes. His face remains fixed as he tells me, only his lips moving. "Grey Publishing."

My mouth drops open wide.

Someone inside my work is doing this?

One name pops into my mind...


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer: The characters portrayed in this story reflect those in E L James's Fifty Shades Trilogy, therefore they remain her property. The plot and themes in this story are those of the author. The author is in no way affiliated with James. No copyright infringement intended.**

**This chapters a little short. I will upload some more tomorrow!**

**Bit of a lemon thrown in!**

**:) x**

* * *

"Christian, can I ask you something?"

I lie facing away from him, my back to his chest, cacooned in his arms. Our naked bodies coming down from euphoric love making.

"Of course, Ana you really don't need to ask permission to ask me something." He nuzzles his head against my neck with his hand resting firmly against my stomach.

"Are you able to run a security check on someone for me?"

Christian forces me onto my back, bringing us face to face. He examines me, running his fingers down my cheek, slowly caressing my skin.

"You know I can. Who is it?"

"Danielle Wilkes." I reply bluntly.

"Why do you want me to check her out? Has she done something?" His voice raises slightly, I can sense his anger already.

"I don't know, I just think that with this person using the wi-fi at work, it has to mean that they are employed there. The only person I can think of is Danielle."

"Ana, we can't just accuse her of it if we have nothing to go on."

"I know, I just want to know a bit of her background. HR checked her out but what do they really know? With the way she acted the other day, I just want to know who I'm dealing with here."

Sensing worry I reach up with my hand, wrapping it around Christian's head and pulling him down to my lips. I soothe him with my touch, taking away all of his stress and pain. His hand moves from cupping my face to trailing down my neck, painstakingly slow, building up the pressure in my pelvis. I begin to lose myself under his touch, allowing him to take over me. I writhe under his touch, arching my back and pushing up closer to him, aching for him to continue.

"I'll do whatever you want me to do. What do you want?" His tongue slips further into my mouth, exploring new undiscovered territory. I pant into him, unable to control the intense spasms crawling up through my core, causing my body to twist and contort.

"Tell me." He groans, his hand moving further south hitting the apex of my thighs, encircling me. Hard and fast. Very fast.

I moan. Panting. Writhing.

"You. Always you."

Christian pulls his lips away from mine, tugging my face up to his, forcing my eyes to his. He slowly dips his finger inside me, circling and sending me over the edge.

"You are mine. Only mine."

"Yes -" I exhail. "I'm yours."

* * *

**From: Christian Grey**

**Subject: Security Check**

**Date: 4th November 2011 12:54:03PM**

**To: Anastasia Grey**

Welch is running the check on Ms Wilkes. He will forward the results straight to you.

I have a meeting. What time do you finish tonight?

Thank you for last night. And this morning. I love waking up next to you.

Take it easy. Please.

C

x

Christian Grey

CEO wondering how he got so lucky, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

* * *

**From: Anastasia Grey**

**Subject: How did you get lucky? How did I get lucky?!**

**Date: 4th November 2011 12:58:15PM**

**To: Christian Grey**

Thank you for sorting it out for me. It's probably nothing but I just need to cover all bases, I just have a weird feeling over this.

I should finish at 6. Am I going to be privilged with my delightful, gorgeous husband coming to pick me?

Shouldn't I be thanking you for last night? I do believe I owe you an orgasm Mr Grey.

I will take it ease, so don't worry! Blip and I are going to lock ourselves away in the office, read some manuscripts and eat.

We love you.

X

Anastasia Grey

Happiest woman in Seattle, Editor, Grey Publishing Ltd.

* * *

From: Christian Grey

Subject: I wish I could lock you away...

Date: 4th November 2011 13:01:43PM

To: Anastasia Grey

...and keep you with me forever. Permanently at my beck and call. But I will settle for barefoot and pregnant, I can compromise on the kitchen part. I prefer you in bed, or the bath.

I will meet you in reception.

I will always worry about you.

Laters baby.

C

X

Christian Grey

CEO in a rush for some mind-numbingly boring meeting, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

* * *

A huge, no holds barred grin creeps across my face. I must look crazy staring helplessly at a computer screen, grinning like a high schooler who's just met Justin Bieber.

I have arranged for Hannah to monitor all the calls coming into my office, only allowing a shortlist to reach me. I really want to avoid anyone who could potentially be involved in all of this hassle here. Christian suggested that I change my password as soon as I got in. It is now 'Blip' followed by our wedding anniversary: 07/16/2011. IT sure as hell gave me a weird look when I said Blip. I didn't explain it to them; it's mine and Christian's secret.

The rest of the afternoon passes in a blur of two-dimensional manuscripts, several chocolate chip muffins and a lot of tea. I swear I must be the sole reason Twinnings are still in production after the amount Christian insisted we buy when I told him pregnancy has simply heightened my love for English Breakfast. I'm now on three cups a day with that mouth-wateringly Orange juice thrown in for good measure.

Hannah comes in several times, bringing contracts for me to approve and food from the deli down the street. I tuck into my Chicken Caesar Salad wrap when I hear the familiar ping of my emails.

Reaching over to my mouse, to jump start my screen to life, I expect to see a message from Christian but instead I am greeted by Welch's correspondence. I tense up thinking about what he has found, if he has found anything. I open it up without hesitation, needing to know what I can about Danielle.

* * *

**From: Michael Welch**

**Subject: Security Check No.1389**

**Date: 4th November 2011 17:05:18PM**

**To: Anastasia Grey**

Dear Mrs Grey,

Mr Grey has requested that I undertake a security check of a Ms Danielle Wilkes, currently in employment with Grey Publishing Ltd.

Given the short notice I have yet to detail a full background check, therefore if you should require further information please do not hesitate in contacting me.

Mr Grey instructed that I send my findings direct to you. Please find them attached to this email.

Kind Regards,

Michael Welch.

* * *

I open the document, reclining in my chair as I skim through Danielle's information. Welch is right, this isn't a full background check - it's no where near as in depth as the file Christian showed me with my name on, the one he had compiled before the red room of pain, hard limits and vanilla.

* * *

**Danielle Karyn Wilkes**

**DOB:** August 15, 1983, Arcadia, MI

**Address:** 13735 15th Avenue, NE, Seattle, WA 98125

**Mobile No:** 360 779 2276

**Occupation:** Publishing Editor - Junior Assistant

**Education:** Michigan State University - English Major

**GPA:** 4.0

**SAT Score:** 2050

**Employment:** Grey Publishing Ltd.

**Father:** Unknown

**Mother:** Samantha Ann Wilkes - DOB: January 3, 1967 (unmarried)

**Political Affiliations:** Democrat

**Religious Affiliations:** None Found

**Sexual Orienation:** Hetrosexual

**Relationships:** Devon Maxwell Saunders (2004-2007) Peter "Charlie" Thomas (2008) Jack Hyde (2009-2010)


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer: The characters portrayed in this story reflect those in E L James's Fifty Shades Trilogy, therefore they remain her property. The plot and themes in this story are those of the author. The author is in no way affiliated with James. No copyright infringement intended.**

**Bit of Blip channelling! More to come! **

**:)**

* * *

I slump forward against my desk, edging closer to the screen making sure I have read the document correctly. _Jack Hyde?_

I re-read the file several times taking it in, hoping that I misread it or conjured it from somewhere deep from within my imagination, but the outcome remains the same. Running my hands through my hair, in a very Christian Grey like manner, I struggle to focus my mind; what am I supposed to do? Taking a few calming breaths I fire up a hasty email back to Welch, thanking him and telling him that the information he has provided is suffice for now, though I look forward to a full background check, in particular any police records. I need her whole history. I need to know what the deal is with Hyde. I need Christian.

Reaching across the desk I grab my BlackBerry and punch in my favourite number. Thankfully he answers after just three rings, putting a pause on my growing anxiety.

"Ana?"

"Christian, I need your help." I hear my voice break mid sentence, breaking up the calm exterior I was trying to convey.

"What's wrong? Are you okay? Is it Blip? Ana?" He begins to ramble, panicking and weary.

"Baby, we're fine!" I pause to compose myself, hearing Christian like this is upsetting - hearing him in any type of pain, either physical or emotional is distressing and heart-breaking.

"Then what's wrong?"

"Welch sent me Danielle's information. There's something in it that worries me."

"Baby, tell me. Now!" The latter of his reply urgent and forceful.

"It has a list of her previous relationships. Her last relationship was from 2009 up until last year."

"And?"

"It was with Hyde." I find myself whispering into the phone, cautious that anyone could hear me even though I am alone, in the seclusion of my office.

"Fucking bastard! He's set this up! The fucker!" I hear a loud bang on the other end of the call, assuming that some piece of furniture in his office as received the might of his fists.

"Baby, what do I do?"

"Fire the fucking bitch!"

"But what if she's not involved?"

"Do you honestly believe this is just a fucking coincidence?" His words ring in my ears. I know he's right, how can it be a coincidence? Nothing is ever a coincidence!

"I don't know what to believe anymore."

"Ana, I can sort it. You don't need to worry. She'll be gone in ten minutes."

I interrupt him quickly to stand my ground. "No! Christian, no. I can do this. I need to talk to her, one-on-one."

"You are not seeing her alone. I mean it Ana. So help me God if you do!" He bellows down the phone, domineering me. I squirm in my chair feeling belittled; like a child - an infant who hasn't a mind of their own.

"Christian, I can do this."

"I mean it. Do not defy me on this."

"I'll see you at six."

I hang up the call before he can say anything else or make me feel any smaller than I do right now. I know I can handle this, hell I dealt with the Mia kidnap situation on my own - not that I enjoyed having to convince my husband I was leaving him, almost destroying him in the process, to go and receive a beating from Hyde threatening to steal Blip from me.

As Christian so rightly reminds me on a daily basis, this company is going to be mine at some point, when it is I will need to deal with all manners of issues and problems, a little practice can't hurt.

Rising from my chair I smooth out my new second trimester blue sheath dress, fitted to emphasise my small invader, but made of high quality stretchy fabric - plenty of room for manoeuvre until I hit six months. Caroline didn't hesitate in telling me that by that point the material will be stretched beyond belief, that's if it hasn't already ripped or torn under the pressure! Pushing a few fly-away strands of hair out of my face to behind my ears, I take in a few calming breaths, psyching myself up.

Composed and in Editor mode I pound out of the office, out into the main lobby. Hannah jumps to attention at the sight of me, coming to my aid.

"Ana! Can I get you anything?" She wipes away the tell-tale signs of her cappuccino from around her mouth.

"No, I'm fine thank you." I smile, shaking my head at her, allowing her to return to her desk.

I scower the room searching the various desks looking for the red-head. I find her at the desk nearest to the main stairwell;_ isn't that, that new guy, Tom's, desk?_ She looks around the room, nervously, as if she's keeping an eye out for someone. The cloud of red mist begins to descend, hovering in front of my eyes, blurring everything. I can feel it rising from within my stomach, reaching boiling point. Trying my best to stay calm I walk over to her desk; slow and in control on the outside, screaming and writhing within.

I never break my glare, fixated on her as she types furiously. As I edge nearer to her she shifts in the chair, momentarily glancing upwards in my direction, sensing that she's being watched. A weak smile creeps across her lips, fading to a frown; _yes, you better wipe that smile from your fucking face!_

"Mrs Grey, c-can I get you anything? Do anything?" She's timid, shoulders hunched up and tense. For a second I think she's intimidated by me, it brings a sense of relief that I have this effect on her - the Christian Grey effect.

"My office. Now." My lips press into a firm line.

I turn on my heel, swirling round far too fast for my insides to keep up. My stomach churning, struggling to keep my lunch down. The room plunges into silence as I make my way back in my office, Danielle in tow. I ignore everyone as I pass them, they remain a blur, an unnecessary audience. Careful not to stumble I negotiate around my desk, falling into my chair. I close my eyes, shutting down for a few moments as I hear her enter the room, closing the door silently behind her.

"Mrs Grey?"

I open my eyes and find her settling into one of the chairs positioned on the opposite side of my desk. Her hair is tied back, dishevelled - a change from her usual perfection of tight curls and hairspray. I look at her face noticing a trace of makeup, nowhere near as much as she normally wears. Her eyes are watery; she almost looks scared. Scared of what? That she's being reprimanded knowing that she's pissed off the boss's wife? Or that she's about to be found out? Either way she should be scared.

"Mrs Grey, is everything okay?" She shifts uncomfortably, her voice croaky and broken - the way mine does just before I'm about to breakdown in a flood of tears.

"No. Certianly not." I keep my voice to a low tone. I've learnt from Christian that the best way to deal with these situations is to stay calm, instead of shouting and screaming in their faces. Silence speaks volumes and you can never really tell how someone is feeling if they aren't displaying their emotions, making it ten times worse and unbearable. Complete agony.

"Is this about the other day? Ana... Mrs Grey -" she corrects herself quickly, moving her gaze from my eyes, looking down to her hands pooled in her lap. "I really didn't mean to offend you, it's just... I loved having the responsibility of dealing with everything in your absence, and then finding out that you and Mr Grey are expecting, I just wanted to prove myself to you, and let you know that I can handle it. I just wanted to put myself forward. I never meant to upset you, that was the last thing I wanted to do." She cracks up just before she finishes, the start of crocodile tears falling from her big hazel eyes, smudging her eyeliner and mascara.

The regular me, the Ana Steele inside, wouldn't be able to handle this, my pregnancy hormones have gone into overdrive lately - I can't stop myself from bursting into tears at the sight of someone else pouring their heart out - but the angry, hate filled Anastasia Grey is hardfaced, uncaring and growing frustrated with her, and her fake tears.

"Ms Wilkes, understandably the incident the other day was extremely uncalled for. You made your views clear; you want my job as soon as possible, I would go as far to say that you'd happily kick me out of this office at the snap of your fingers if you had the power. But may I remind you once again that it is 'Grey' on this building, and the last time I checked I am still a Grey."

I pause watching her visibly shake in her chair, the tears continuing to drip down her cheeks. Her lips quivering as she tries to suck in air. I lean over and push the box of tissues from the corner of my desk over to her. She looks up to them, taking one and smiles weakly to me.

"Thank you." Mumbling into the tissue as she blows her nose loudly.

"Now, although I have yet to decide what to do regarding that matter, it is not the reason I called you into my office."

"Really?" If possible I watch her squirm even more than she already is, visualising the cogs inside her brain working overtime, racking her brains trying to figure out where I'm coming from.

"Ms Wilkes, do you recall when we agreed on your contract that it would be well within my rights, and those of my husband, to at any point request a security check on yourself?"

Her heads nods solemnly. "Yes, I agreed to it when I signed the forms."

"Well recently a few issues have arisen, both myself and Mr Grey are concerned with the loyalty of some members of staff, it seems there are some people in our mitts who cannot be trusted. I had reason to suspect that you are among them, given the way you acted in a vile manner a few days ago."

"Mrs Grey, I don't understand?"

"I ordered our security personnel to pull your records. I know everything."

Her eyes widen, almost to the point of her eyeballs popping out of her skull in a cartoon style comic strip feature.

"Mrs Grey, it was a long time ago. I haven't touched the stuff in years. I swear to you!"

I frown looking over to her. She notes my reaction, figuring out that I have no idea what she's talking about, though I'm intrigued - _drugs?_

"Ms Wilkes I'm going to put this simply. Over the past couple of weeks someone has attempted to infiltrate private information from within this company. I assume that these files they are trying to get access to are wanted as some means of blackmail. I'm sure you are fully aware of the incident a few months ago, resulting in my need to excuse myself from work for several weeks? When the company's former Editor attempted to blackmail my husband?"

"Of course, but you don't... You don't think that, I'm the one trying to do that? Do you?"

"Your records have brought some interesting to my attention. Something that easily points everything in your direction. When did you last speak to Jack Hyde?" I spit out his name with disgust, bile rising from my stomach at the thought of his face. His eyes staring at me, undressing me. _'You fucking prick-tease!'_

Danielle's mouth falls open, her jaw almost hitting the floor. I fist my hands in my lap, thoughts of him flooding my mind. What he did to us; what he tried to do to us; what he could have done to us. To me.

"I haven't..." Her chest begins to rise and fall rapidly, panicking.

"I want the truth. Now." I find myself shouting, my head beginning to throb and my voice sore. "I know you were in a relationship with him."

My BlackBerry springs to life under a pile of papers scattered on my desk. 'Your love if King' filling the room, breaking the momentary silence between us as she tries to figure out the best way to cover her ass. I make a grab for it, rejecting the call without a second thought; I can deal with him later.

"Jack sent a message to me a few weeks ago."

"Did you speak to him before you began working here?"

"No! I hadn't spoken to him since I ditched him last year. The bastard was using me, he made off with half of my savings, and to top it all off I find out he was screwing his assistant!" She huffs, it clearly still upsets her thinking about him. I can't imagine anyone actually liking Jack, after you get through the charm on the exterior, he's just a vile, pathetic excuse for a human being.

"Why did he contact you?" I feel myself growing impatient, wanting to shake her to get all the information I need.

"He wanted me do something for him. He wanted me to pass on a message to someone, I don't who it was. He just gave me a number and asked me call it."

"Did you?"

She nods her head apologetically.

"What was the message?"

"It was a code. His former access code, from when he worked here."

My stomach drops.

"Danielle are you aware that it is his access code being used to hack into the main server here?"

"No, but I put two and two together when you just said that someone was trying to get files."

"Who was the call made to?"

"I don't know. They never said anything, and it was a payphone I was calling to, still in Seattle. Mrs Grey, I'm so sorry. I would never have done it if I'd have known what he was trying to do."

"If you hadn't spoken to him since you broke up, why did you apply here? If it wasn't because of him? If it wasn't some sort of master plan you two have conjured up?"

"Mrs Grey -" She appears to have calmed slightly, regulating her breathing, no longer on the point of hyperventilating. "You must know that having 'Grey' on your résumé is like winning the lottery. You can go far in life if people know you were lucky enough to get the chance to work under such a prestigious name. I only heard of a possible vacancy when my mother's boss suggested that you might need someone urgently to help whilst you were... recovering."

"So it wasn't anything to do with Hyde?"

"No. I didn't want you to find out. I knew I wouldn't get anywhere near the place if you knew. Guilty by association and all that shit."

"Your mother told you about a job here? We never publicised a vacancy here." I'm confused. Her mother's name didn't ring familiar with me. How could she know if there was an opportunity here?

"Yes, she was at work and they discussing the news about what happened with Jack. Of course my mother left out all information that I was his ex, she never approved of him. I should have listened!"

"And it was her boss that suggested a role here?" I raise my eyebrow to her.

She nods her head, wiping her nose with another tissue from the box. "Her boss knows Mr Grey."

"Where does your mother work?"

She pauses for a second, though it feels like an eternity.

"Esclava."


	15. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer: The characters portrayed in this story reflect those in E L James's Fifty Shades Trilogy, therefore they remain her property. The plot and themes in this story are those of the author. The author is in no way affiliated with James. No copyright infringement intended.**

**I am, as always, humbled by your kind words! There are no words to express how grateful I am to each and every one one of you who take the time to read my story, and to those of you who are reviewing! It keeps me spurred on knowing that you are enjoying it!**

**I'm glad you're happy - or not so happy - to see the return of Elena! Much more to develop! **

**A lot of you are still pondering about the painting. All in good time! ;)**

**Much love and big hugs to you all!**

**Keep reading and reviewing! :)**

* * *

"Esclava?"

"Yeah, that weird beauty salon chain. Stupid name I know, but she's only been working there a couple of months. Just before I started working for you actually."

"I know, I've heard of the place."

_Oh, no! _

I can't control it anymore. I can't keep it down; the bile is rising fast up into my throat, burning as it finds its way from my stomach, bringing my lunch with it. I plunge my hand over my mouth and jump up from my chair.

"Excuse me!" I somehow manage to squeeze it out of my mouth without vomiting all over her. I doubt even she deserves that!

Running across the office floor, startling a few people, I rush to the ladies room. I force the door open and bolt into the first cubicle I can find, throwing my head over the porcelain and emptying everything I have down the toilet. I retch several times, bringing it up, until there is nothing left to give.

Feeling the wave settle in my stomach I rock back onto my feet, kneeling in the middle of the cubicle with the door open wide beside me.

The door to the bathroom flies open, bouncing loudly off the wall and echoing throughout the room. My head is banging from the information overload. _Elena!_ All I can hear is her name, going around and around in my mind. I'm only pulled from the pain when I feel a pair of warm hands on my shoulder, startling me.

"Ana!" His voice calms me, telling me I'm safe. "Baby, shh, I'm here." He whispers calmly, scooping my hair away from my face.

"Christian." I mutter, still wary if there is anything left inside that will find its way down the toilet.

"I'm here." He strokes my shoulder, moving one hand to my back to rub in slow, concentric circles.

"What are you doing here?" I fall back, swivelling my legs out from underneath me, stretching them out in front. I turn my head slowly to face him, stunned by his beauty. I can never tire from looking at him.

"I called you, but you rejected it. I knew you'd go against me so I came down here as soon as I could." I close my eyes, unsurprised. _You knew he would_. My subconscious points out to me, standing in the doorway holding her nose, repulsed by the smell.

"I needed to know."

"I know. Doesn't take away from the fact that you went against my word." He scolds me, still rubbing my back as you would a child. "Did you find out anything worth while?"

"He contacted her, a few weeks back. Told her to call a payphone and give the person on the other end his access code. She doesn't know who it was."

He nods. _Did he know that already?_ Fifty seemingly knows everything.

I continue. "She hadn't spoken to him in a long time. He had nothing to do with her coming to work here."

"Bullshit!" He grunts.

"Apparently not, a _friend_ of yours suggested to her mother that she should apply here, knowing that we'd need 'support'."

"What?!"

"Danielle's mother. She works for Elena."

We sit in the claustrophobic confines of the cubicle, both of us trying to work out what to say to one another. Christian is kneeling down beside me, his hands firm on his lap, sitting like a submissive - how he expects me to sit in the playroom - incoherent, lost in his own little world. I sit there, legs splayed out in front of me, bent because the cubicle walls are too close together, cold and sweaty, shaking slightly from the whirling inside my stomach. I don't know if it's Blip this time or just everything finally breaking me down.

Regaining some strength in my limbs I reach over to him, running my fingers over his jaw, bringing my Christian back to me.

"Baby, we'll work it out."

"Ana. I'll deal with it. This is my past coming back to bite us on the ass. I won't let you get involved again." His grey eyes smolder into my tired and exhausted blue.

"Christian. '_What's mine is now yours'_. I knew what I was getting myself into when I said 'I do'. This is our life." I relay his words to him, as he has done many times to me - though it's usually about money.

"You shouldn't have to deal with this shit anymore. Not with Blip as well." He reaches up and takes my hand from his face, pulling it up to his mouth, caressing my hand with his tender lips. "I just want you to be happy, and safe."

"We're tougher than we look, and I am happy. Yes, there's no denying that all of this is tiring and fucking annoying, but we'll get through it."

"I love you both so much. I don't know what I would do if I ever lost you."

"We love you too, and you are never going to lose us. But can I ask you one thing?"

"Of course." He whispers, moving in closer to me, wrapping his arm around my shoulders, enabling me to lower my head down onto his chest.

"When Blip's older and having a full-blown Christian Grey bitch fit, can you deal with him? I can barely handle it now, when he's safe inside me. He's screwing with my emotions!"

"That bad?" He leans over, kissing my forehead.

"Oh yes! I'm slowly turning into you a little more each day!"

"Well, you can teach him to be smart, caring and loving, I'll teach him to be good with money and how to treat a woman!" He winks at me and I can't help but giggle at him.

"We really should start preparing for the chance that we may have a little girl in here!" I rub my stomach lightly, careful not to upset my delicate insides any further.

"Ah, we should, but I'm positive it's Junior in there."

"Me too."

* * *

Christian and I spent almost two hours in my office with Danielle, prying every scrap of information we could from her. She told us that Jack never actually spoke to her, just sent her a text message, threatening her if she didn't do exactly as she said. I speculated briefly if she was scared of him, whether he had ever hit her or abused her? I wouldn't put anything past that sleezeball! Christian seemed more concerned with how he managed to get hold of a cell phone in the first place, telling me that he'll get hold of his father to see if he can pull a few strings and find out who has dropped the ball.

I cannot count the amount of times she apologised to us, Christian simply blanked her every time. She squirmed in her chair every time he paced behind her.

We asked her over and over if she had any other involvement in Hyde's plans, but she denied each time, even agreeing to take a lie detector test to prove her innocence! I took this as proof enough but I could see Christian in the corner of my eye already arranging it in his mind. As I sat there I started to believe her, putting faith in my judgement and instinct, praying that my hormones weren't impairing my vision. I know Christian won't believe her, he has a hard enough task believing in himself, he's not likely to believe in someone who he doesn't know and has openly admitted to helping Jack - albeit a small insignificant input. If she hadn't done it, he would have someone else do it. I know he would stop at nothing until he can bring Christian down.

Danielle left the building with her career in tatters and jeopardy. I had to stop Christian from firing her there and then; he scowled at me with that 'we will discuss this later, in private' sort of glare. I rolled my eyes at him, infuriating him even more. I know my behind is going to be sore tonight! I cannot be as blunt as he is, not matter how much Blip is messing around with me. Danielle was good at her job - she was amazing at just picking up from where I left off, keeping everything in order and running smoothly. I'm starting to believe that her comments about maternity leave were genuinely her attempt at securing a future role within the company. Maybe I took things too far? Did I over-react?

It's late when Christian and I arrive back at Escala. Mrs Jones has left for the weekend to go and stay with her sister, Taylor is off tomorrow to see his daughter Sophie, meaning we will have the whole day to ourselves - minus Sawyer and Ryan hanging around.

After tucking into some Mac and Cheese, Christian leaves to run a bath for us both.

I walking sleeply through the apartment following the smell of the jasmine bath oil secreting from our bathroom. All I want is to sleep, but I know as soon as my head hits the pillow I'll be full of questions and worry. Christian turns off the water and begins to undress, stepping out of his pants and boxers and sinking into the water. I watch him as he moves graciously and with ease.

"Admiring the view?" He looks up as he reclines in the tub.

"Oh yes! Always Mr Grey."

"Come. Join me." He gestures to me, arms strung over the sides of the tub, waiting to embrace me and pull me close to him.

I nod my head, walking over to the side of the bath, stooping down to him.

"Can you unzip my dress?"

"Well it's a dirty job, but I think I'm up for the challenge." I turn my head to the side as he moves over to me, reaching with his wet hand to make light work of my zipper.

"I can see that." I giggle, catching an eyeful of his erection piercing through the water.

Sliding the dress down over my breasts and hips, I step out of it, adding it to the pile of his clothes on the marble floor. I reach around my back and undo my bra, shrugging it off my body and letting it fall in front of me, whilst trying to wiggle out of my panties. As I look up from the floor and the mass of clothing I see Chrisitan gawping at me, pouting his lips. God, every time he does that I feel it, down _there_.

I step into the bath, taking Christian's hand to steady myself before lowering down onto my behind, sitting between his legs and my back to his bare, wet chest. I moan as the water laps around us, slowly washing away all of my stress as Christian massage my scalp.

"Baby, have you spoken to your father?" I tilt my head back against him when he stops moving his fingers.

"Yes. He's made a few calls. Security around that fucker has been heightened, they seem to think that some of the medical team who came in to see him were in fact alliances of his, helping him to organise all of this. His trial is next week, he's going down for a very long time."

"How can you be sure?" I whisper as he resumes his task of trying to relax me.

"Because I've paid a shitload of money for a fucking bitch of a lawyer. She's not lost a case yet and she's been around a long time. He doesn't have a leg to stand on."

I relax hearing this, knowing the he won't be out anytime soon. No immediate threat to us. But my mind quickly shifts to other threat in our lives. The constant threat who has been there since we got together. Fucking bitch troll, Mrs Robinson. I still before asking him, knowing that he will either flip at me, sending him into a whirlwind of shouting and anger, or he will brush me off and tell me not to worry. Neither of them an outcome I would relish.

"What are we going to do about Elena?"

I feel his chest fill with air as he takes in a deep breath. His hands leaving my body no doubtingly running them through his copper locks.

"I haven't decided. I don't exactly want to contact her."

"I know you don't, I don't exactly like it either. I just can't imagine how this has panned out. Elena had no idea about Danielle and Jack, so that's dealt with. Do you think she genuinely sent Danielle to us as a peace-offering? You said she was remorseful when you rejected her?"

"She was. I could tell even though she was pretending it was a joke. I've known her for a very long time, I know when she's lying. Do I think she was doing it from the good of her heart? I don't know if that woman has a fucking heart! I know she's tried to get in with my Mom again, that's what she was discussing with my Dad at the party. I called her this evening."

"She should know better, there's no way Grace is going to be friends with her again, not after what she did to you!"

Christian's hands leave my hair and move to my shoulders, pressing into my skin firmly. Kneading at the tension and wiping my mind clear of everything but me and him. I moan under his touch. He reacts, pressing his growing erection into the small of my back. I arch my back as the pleasure spreads through me, sinking down to between my thighs. I can feel myself growing wet and he hasn't even reached that part yet.

"Let's just forget all that shit for now. All I want is to finish up in here, get you squeaky clean so I can take you to bed and fuck you into the morning." He whispers into my ear, nibbling and sucking onto my ear lobe. His hand skims over my breast and my erect nipple, bypassing it to reach down to my sex.

"Hm. Yes." I pant, aching for him. _I need you_.

"Always ready for me Mrs Grey. My beautiful Mrs Grey."


	16. Chapter 16

**Disclaimer: The characters portrayed in this story reflect those in E L James's Fifty Shades Trilogy, therefore they remain her property. The plot and themes in this story are those of the author. The author is in no way affiliated with James. No copyright infringement intended.**

**Just a little warning of the LEMON coming up! **

**Sorry for not posting yesterday - I really am addicted to writing this story and attempt to upload as often as I can! - technology failed me yesterday after spending a lot of time working on this chapter, only for my internet to crash and lose everything! Spent the past part of this morning playing catch up!**

**Much love! :)**

* * *

I sit forward in the tub as Christian makes light working the soap into a lather and rubbing it into my skin, trialing the length and curvature of my spine. I shiver as he switches from high pressure kneading to light, sensual trickles of touch over my sensitive and yearning back. He only removes his hands from me to gather water to wash over me, allowing it to cascade and run down my spine. I moan as it brings a new sensation to my body, pleasure from such an intimate and private affair. I massage his legs mirroring his hands and their movements on me; running my fingers through the water against his shins, down to his ankles and back up again.

"Come, lean against me so I can wash your front." Christian reaches around my chest with one arm, pulling me backwards to lie against him. I feel him growing and swelling as I move, his length probing the small of my back, I resist the urge to swing around and climb up onto him knowing that if I do we'll never leave the tub, and the likely hood is that once we've tipped over the edge into the oblivion of estacy, the stress and exhaustion of the day will overtake me and knock me unconscious.

I continue to rub his legs, moving up to his thighs, massaging deep with my fingers as he takes the body wash from the edge of the tub and squeezes it directly onto my chest. I jolt slightly under the coolness of it hitting my skin, a stark difference to the heat of the water lapping around my lower abdomen, covering my legs.

His hands work over my chest, working the body wash into me, lathering it up and circling it over my breasts and my hardened nipples. I arch my back pushing them into his hands further, urging him to tug and twist them. Anything for those muscles hidden deep inside me to contort and writhe, to clench and heave. He senses my need and takes them between his thumb and finger, squeezing them and rubbing them around in circles. It hits me, right down there. I try to push my thighs together against my sex, but he moves his legs to wrap them around me to push them further apart; his ankles wrapped around mine, his knees cupping mine. As the pressure builds and intensifies, sending me to the brink of climax, he let's go of my breasts, cupping them one last time before moving them down to my stomach. I start to pant, needing his fingers to take me. Needing him to push them inside me, encircle me, tease me. _Please_.

"I think you're clean enough now." He whispers as he suckles my ear lobe. I whimper, unsatisfied and wanting more. Needing him. "Let's get you out of this water before you start looking like a prune."

In one swift movement he moves me forward, sliding me further down the tub as he stands, exiting the water in a graceful leap. I splash my hands in the water, frustrated. Glancing at him as he wraps a towel around his waist, hiding his erection, I catch a trace of a smirk creep across his lips. He's enjoying this: working me up into a frenzy then leaving me hanging. _Screw you Grey, two can play at this game. _

He stands hands on hips, watching me as I work the water over my chest. Tilting my head back I throw out a moan, running my hand over my breast and down my body. As my fingers make their descend to my sex, teasing him, his fingers grab my wrists, yanking them up away from my body. I look up sharply into his eyes, his grey narrow eyes, scowling at me. His fingers wrap around my wrists, squeezing them tight almost painfully.

"No. That's mine." His eyes moving south into the water. I clench. His voice stern and dominant.

Before I know it Christian has pulled me from the water, up and into his arms, carrying me out of the bathroom. I lie in his arms dripping, water soaking the carpet of our bedroom as he makes his way to the bed, throwing me down on the duvet.

"I'm soaking wet!" I screech, my hair thrashing against the linen.

"Not yet. But soon you will be." He smirks, climbing up between my already parted thighs, throwing his towel on to the floor.

I giggle, his fingers pressing into my hips, tilting them up to him.

"Now, I need to remind you that your pleasure is mine Anastasia. All mine. Only mine." His lips suckling on my nipple, taking me in his mouth and twisting and tugging it between his teeth. I throw my head back panting as the tingling begins to make its way down to my sex, the start of my heavenly ascend.

"Yes... For you." I moan as he leaves my nipple, kissing his way up to my lips. Breathing into me.

"You will always be mine. I will never let anyone take you from me. Never." His eyes full of need. A need to be inside me. The same need I share. The wanting of it so badly.

"I'll never let that happen. No one will come between us." I reach up cupping his face between my shaking fingers. "Just you and me."

He mirrors me, his fingers wrapping around my face and pulling me closer to him. He wriggles his hips between my thighs, pressing them into me, his length probing me, sending spasms shooting up into my stomach.

My mouth forms an O as he presses further, before pushing the tip of himself into me. Gentle, as I adjust to him, then slamming into me. Thrusting and pushing further inside.

"Ana, look at me." He groans, pushing harder into me.

I force my eyes open, unaware of anything, lost in the sensation and movement. I find his eyes staring longingly into mine. Passionate grey into ardent blue.

"Just you and me baby. Always." Christian whispers, bringing his lips to mine. My lips feel on fire as he sucks at them, slipping his tongue between them, into my mouth teasing my willing tongue.

I lose myself, throwing my head back screaming his name as I come around him. He thrusts further a few more times, the spasms intensifying as I clench him. He collapses on to my chest after stilling and jerking into me, hitting the peak I've already reached.

Our chests move in unison; panting. Lungs gasping for air. Hearts beating fast and painfully pounding against our rib cages. The weakened spasms fluttering throughout me as he moves inside me with every breath.

My eyelids become heavy as I stare up at the ceiling, Christian's head resting on my chest above my heart, where he belongs. Where he will always belong.

I don't remember him pulling out of me, or him throwing a sheet over us. I don't even remember falling asleep, but I remember his last words into my ear as he wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling my back into his chest, moulding himself around my curve.

"Sleep now my beautiful girl. My Ana. I love you."


	17. Chapter 17

**Disclaimer: The characters portrayed in this story reflect those in E L James's Fifty Shades Trilogy, therefore they remain her property. The plot and themes in this story are those of the author. The author is in no way affiliated with James. No copyright infringement intended.**

**Thank you again for your reviews! I love to see that you are taking the time to read and review my story! This chapter is a bit of a bridge between the last and the next one. **

**The next chapter will be posted soon!**

**Much love :)**

* * *

The early morning Seattle sun starts to flood the bedroom with light, bringing a fresh new day to me and my sleeping beauty lying beside me. I turn my head slightly to the right, to face him, and see him lying in my direction; his eyes closed, his lashes fanning out on his cheek, and his copper hair flying out in all different directions. I don't think I have ever seen him without 'just fucked hair'. _Maybe that's because he's always 'just fucked'? _

I ache a little from last night. My hips are throbbing from the pressure of him thrusting against them. My breasts are tender and swollen, but I've come to expect this after all, they will only get bigger. This is just something I will have to get used to, no doubt Christian will help me overcome this body change.

Every time he notices a slight change - if my breasts are fraction bigger, or if my bump has swelled a little more during the night - he assures me that I'm perfect - that as my body grows there is just more of me to love, no matter how much I wish there wasn't. My bump I can live with, it's a symbol of my baby growing inside me, our baby that we will bring into the world in around six months time. I count down every day until I get to meet Blip in person, but for now I settle for the sonogram that has pride of place on the bedside table, on Christian's side of the bed. I find him staring at it each night before he turns in and snuggles into me. He loves our baby. The baby he didn't want only a few months ago. The baby that could have ruined us. Our baby.

He looks so peaceful in sleep, happy even. I rarely get the chance to watch him sleep; he's normally showered and dressed by the time I wake, especially since nowadays I sleep through the alarm waking him to the early morning traffic news. I resist the almighty urge to stroke his cheek, to trace my fingers over his soft angelic skin. He needs his sleep! Since everything hit the fan a few weeks ago he has been sleeping less and working more. I treasure these few moments of him relaxing, peaceful in a deep sleep and dreaming of happier times, evident from the small grin creeping across his lips.

"You're staring at me." He whispers, his eyes closed and lips barely moving. The smile remains on his face much to my delight.

"How can you tell?"

"Your breathing has changed."

He notices everything about my body, the way I move and the way I behave. There is nothing I can hide from him; no secrets or things I can keep to myself. _You belong to me_.

"Gia is coming over soon." I roll on to my back, staring up at the ceiling and the reflections forming from the light creeping in from the window.

"Really? Why?"

"We need to organise the nursery! Colours, themes, what room..." I start to ramble, stopping only when he defensively lifts a hand to shut me up.

"Baby, too much. Just tell me when and I'll be there."

"Erm, about half an hour." Turning my head back to look at him I see his eyes beaming open. That 'are you being serious?' look plastered all over his face. "If you want I can deal with it?"

"No. I want both of us to do this. I just wish I had time to grab a coffee first."

I shrug as he rolls off the bed, stripping off his pyjama pants as he glides over to the bathroom.

"Well I'll get you a coffee if it'll get you going!"

"Baby -" Christian pokes his head around the door, gloriously naked but hidden. "There is only one thing that gets me going, and it involves you naked on my bed with your legs open!" He winks, laughing and deflecting the pillow I threw at him, though I cannot help joining him - that is one sure fire way to cheer up my Fifty.

* * *

After grabbing him a coffee and changing into a pair of surprisingly comfortable maternity pants and a light blue blouse, I settle into one of the stools in the kitchen finishing off the rest of my Granola. I made sure to woof down some food before Gia arrives; the less hungry I am, the less likely I am to become irrate with her.

Finishing up and setting my dishes in the sink I hear the clinking of high heels flood the apartment; her obnoxious perfume quickly making an entrance of its own. It smells of roses at first, stinging my nostrils as she clobbers into the kitchen holding a folder and several blueprints rolled up. She's wearing a black pant suit this morning, her hair pulled up into her signature bun and Jimmy Choos pushing her nearer to Christian's height. He's trailing in behind her looking casual and sexy this morning: just his jeans and a plain t-shirt, with his converse completing the look.

"Ana!" Gia bursts to life coming over to throw her arms around me. "Christian has just told me the news! How delightful for you both!"

As she pulls away from me a cheesy grin is plastered on her lips - full of bright red lipstick. I'm taken back to the time Christian showed me his 'limits' using lipstick to marker the no-go areas. We've come a long way since then.

"Thank you." I mumble as she takes place next to me, setting into one of the stools.

"Now, I assume I'm here to sort out the nursery for you both?"

I nod, glancing over to Christian who is flitting around the kitchen grabbing a coffee for Gia and a tea for me,

"Well, I think that the best room would be the third bedroom? It has a wonderful view of the grounds and is the most spacious bar the master." She unfolds the blueprints of the new house on to the counter, pointing out the third bedroom at the far end of the hallway on the top floor.

"I don't know if that's the right room."

Both Christian and Gia turn sharply to look at me, both of their eyes wide.

"Oh?"

"Well that room is just... well, it's too far away from our room. I'd feel better having the baby closer to us, just in case."

"I suppose, but this room is so much more appropriate for a child. They can grow into the space." Gia continues to press the matter.

"No. I don't care about the space. None of the rooms are exactly small! I want the baby closer to me." I point down the the blueprints, placing my fingers on the room next to the master bedroom. "That is the baby's room. End of."

Christian moves in front of me, placing down our drinks on the counter. I glance up at him as he sets them down, he nods agreeing with me. I see Gia in the corner of my eye looking to him for approval.

"I've said it once, what Ana wants! And I agree, I want him closer to us."

"Well in that case, you could always agree to having a Moses basket in our room?" I pout at him, knowing where this discussion is going.

"Ana. We've already talked about this. We need our own space."

"I know, but maybe just for the first few weeks?"

His eyebrow raises and I know this is my signal to shut up. I doubt I'll be getting away with this idea; maybe I'll just get Gia to put a spare bed in the baby's room?

"Okay, so that's the room decided. I think I'll have to have a word with your brother and see if we can do something with that slanted ceiling -"

"No. I want the ceiling to remain the same! I don't want anything to change."

"Are you sure?" Gia taps her fingers on the work top, growing impatient with me.

"Yes. I just want it decorated."

"Okay, have you any thoughts on colour schemes, or are you going to find out the sex before you decide?"

I glance over to Christian.

"We haven't really discussed this. Ana what do you think?"

"I don't want to know."

His eyes widen, shocked. "Really? You're prepared to wait six months to find out what we're having?"

"Yes." I press my lips in a hardline across my face.

"Okay then. Unisex nursery it is."

"In that case -" Gia rejoins the conversation. "Creams and whites are the favourite colours for nursery's."

"I actually have something in mind. I was looking online at ideas and saw a bedroom that was perfect. All white but the walls were painted like the sky; light blues and clouds. It was sort of English countryside. It reminded me of our stay in London."

My eyes reach Christian's recalling our honeymoon. I loved staying in London, visiting the British Library and seeing the places that inspired my favourite writers. Our hotel room was just outside the hustle and bustle of inner city London, away from traffic, instead sitting into the countryside. The room overlooked the grounds - the fields lush and green and fortunately the sky was a clear blue, something I wasn't expecting having researched English weather to realise it was mostly rain and clouds. Waking up in the mornings draped in Christian, facing the large window and seeing and taking in the beautiful, clean English air is something I want for our baby. I want his room to mimic these sights. I want to settle him in my arms and be reminded off the wonderful times we spent there.

"That sounds wonderful, we could work it to appear as if it's influenced by the meadow - I note your plans to keep the meadow, it does add greenery to the property. Very country. If you send me the link to it I can get onto our artist, Laura, she can get to work straight away as soon as your brothers team give us the all clear." Gia starts to fold up the papers on the table, looking down at her wrist watch. "I must dash, I'm sure you'll want me to organise things as soon as possible?"

"Yes." Christian and I both reply in unison.

"I'm glad we've made progress." She smiles, adjusting her suit jacket and taking one last gulp from her coffee cup.

"How is the rest of the house looking?" I question her, desperate to know more. I haven't seen the house in weeks. Elliot has been working hard with his team doing the renovations. The whole property has been cordened off with no one but authorised persons allowed inside. Elliot has kept us in the loop but has never given us a date for when we can expect to move in.

"It's coming along nicely. As far as I am aware Elliot has finished all major reconstructions and is waiting for an inspector to give it the all clear. We'll be shipping in our team of decorators to remodel the place to your designs. I suspect it will be another two weeks or so before you can move in."

I light up inside. We'll be in the house for thanksgiving! I'm hoping that I can arrange for my Mom and Bob to come over - Christian has asked that we put off our plans to travel down to Georgia until everything here has settled down, by which point I won't be able to fly! We read that doctors and airlines don't like you to travel after 7 months, but Christian being Christian has put a full stop on it from 5! I can't wait to tell her our news, though I am scared for her reaction. Telling Ray was the easy part, it was over the phone and we couldn't see his reaction. I know my Mom will wear her feelings, there will be no hiding them.


	18. Chapter 18

**Disclaimer: The characters portrayed in this story reflect those in E L James's Fifty Shades Trilogy, therefore they remain her property. The plot and themes in this story are those of the author. The author is in no way affiliated with James. No copyright infringement intended.**

**Email chapter!**

**Slight fast forward! Almost moving time!**

**Much love! :)**

* * *

**From: Christian Grey**

**Subject: We have a date!**

**Date: 14th November 2011 10:18:09AM**

**To: Anastasia Grey**

I have just received a call from Gia. We are moving in on Saturday.

Every room is painted, wallpapered and flooring complete and perfect. We'll need to pack up our belongings soon and pick what we are taking.

I cannot wait for us to move into our new home.

I love you.

C

x

Christian Grey

Excited CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

* * *

**From: Anastasia Grey**

**Subject: It's really happening?**

**Date: 14th November 2011 10:20:12AM**

**To: Christian Grey**

I cannot believe we have a date!

I am beyond excited - there are not enough superlatives in the world to match my feeling right now!

I thought we agreed just photographs?

It makes sense to leave the furniture at Escala for when we visit to use the playroom. I expect regular trips back to the red room, Mr Grey! Improvisation can only get you so far.

I will miss Escala, but I'm glad we're moving.

I love you more.

Ana

xxx

Anastasia Grey

Jumping up and down like an idiot, Editor, Grey Publishing Ltd.

* * *

**From: Christian Grey**

**Subject: A few suggestions...**

**Date: 14th November 2011 10:23:56AM**

**To: Anastasia Grey**

...that might work: _Thrilled; Eager; Keen; Impatient; Enthusiastic; Over the moon._

I think any of these could easily sum up our emotions right now. Do you not agree?

Mrs Grey, I believe I have shown you on many occasions that I am a skilled man when it comes down to improvising. I am more than happy to reaffirm this with you upon our return home.

I will miss the apartment. I've spent the past several years of my life living there, but I am looking forward to moving into our new home. A fresh start for us.

I will be picking you up at 4.

C

x

Christian Grey

Improvisor & CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

* * *

**From: Anastasia Grey**

**Subject: I am aware of your talents, Sir.**

**Date: 14th November 2011 10:25:23AM**

**To: Christian Grey**

Your suggestions have been noted. They might work.

I think you might have to show me again _Sir_. My memory is appalling these days. Nothing that a good spanking cannot fix.

That's the reason I am glad to move on. I know Escala is 'our' place, but it has never felt mine.

We've had a lot of memorable, and down right amazing times there, but I cannot help but be reminded of other events that have happened there, and how you used to live.

Our new home will just be you and me. No fifteen.

4? I thought I was scheduled to finish at 5 this evening?

Ana

x

Anastasia Grey

In need of a good spanking, Editor, Grey Publishing Ltd.

* * *

**From: Christian Grey**

**Subject: Palm is twitching**

**Date: 14th November 2011 10:27:38AM**

**To: Anastasia Grey**

I have no objections in helping you to remember these factors.

You've never felt at home?

You're finishing at 4. I finish at 4 and I want you home with me.

C

x

Christian Grey

Willing CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

* * *

**From: Anastasia Grey**

**Subject: I can't help how I think**

**Date: 14th November 2011 10:30:01AM**

**To: Christian Grey**

The only place in that apartment that is truly ours is our bedroom. That is the only place that no one else has been. Although these feelings aren't at the forefront of my mind on a daily basis, they are still there. I still know that others have been there, with you, doing things.

I feel at home when I am in your arms.

I'm grateful that you decided to ask me what time I would like to finish today, before you made plans. What if I had a meeting?

Ana

x

Anastasia Grey

Slight Pissed Off Editor, Grey Publishing Ltd.

* * *

**From: Christian Grey**

**Subject: You are...**

**Date: 14th November 2011 10:32:46AM**

**To: Anastasia Grey**

... the only one that has ever mattered.

The only one who has lived there.

If I could wipe my past I would, believe me.

I would rather you didn't think about them. They do not matter. I do not think about them, therefore you shouldn't. I'm just grateful that you do not have a past, I would hate to go through what you are.

I am sorry.

You don't have a meeting. I called Hannah.

C

x

Christian Grey

Sorry CEO in the dog house, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

* * *

**From: Anastasia Grey**

**Subject: I'll bring you out a blanket**

**Date: 14th November 2011 10:35:23AM**

**To: Christian Grey**

I would hate for you to get cold.

I don't care that you have a past, everyone has one. I just look forward to being in surroundings that won't be anything but ours.

Don't be sorry for this. My love for you has never changed. I appreciate that you had your fill in your youth. You got it out of your system, biding your time until I came stumbling into your office.

You should be sorry for arranging things behind my back. I've asked you not to do this, but for this time - and this time alone - I will let it slip. I can't wait to be home with you.

I love you.

Ana

xxx

Anastasia Grey

Forgiving wife & Editor, Grey Publishing Ltd.

* * *

**From: Christian Grey**

**Subject: I'm trying**

**Date: 14th November 2011 10:38:04AM**

**To: Anastasia Grey**

I just want you home with me. Any length of time away from you is hell. I will make it up to you when we get home.

I did get it out of my system as you so elegantly put it. I was waiting for you. I have always been waiting for you. My life started the day you fell into my office. You have shown me and taught me more in these past six months than I have seen or learnt in my whole 28 years on Earth.

I have a meeting. I wish I you were here. I like it when you visit me in my office, especially when I you're wearing a skirt and no panties. ;)

Laters baby

I love you both so much.

C

x

Christian Grey

CEO head over heels in love with his perfect wife and beautiful Blip, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.


	19. Chapter 19

**Disclaimer: The characters portrayed in this story reflect those in E L James's Fifty Shades Trilogy, therefore they remain her property. The plot and themes in this story are those of the author. The author is in no way affiliated with James. No copyright infringement intended.**

**This chapter is the start of the Grey's last night in Escala. I know part of this is written in the epilogue of Freed, but I wanted to put my spin on it. I didn't want to copy from the book, so please expect it to be different. **

**I hope you enjoy! **

**I am overwhelmed with your amazing and loving feedback! Much love to you all! I hope I can continue to entertain you! A lot coming up for the Grey's!**

**:)**

* * *

"Ana, are you sure you don't want me to stick around?"

"No, we're fine. Go and have a night off with Taylor, enjoy yourselves!" I protest to her, walking her through the Great Hall to the foyer.

"I don't know. You've still got a fair bit of packing to do." I grab her shoulder and turn her to face me. Her eyes are full of concern. I try to soothe her with my relaxed expression.

"Gail, we'll be fine. Christian's good at the whole organising thing, I'm sure we will be done in no time!" I smile to her, rubbing her arm slightly. It's taken a lot to even get her to consider leaving us to it tonight; she objected point-blank until Christian had a word with Taylor for them both to take the night off.

"Well, only if you're sure? Jason and I have already packed up our belongings, they are in our quarters ready for the removal guys to bring them to the new house. Unless you want us to take them ourselves?"

"No, not at all! The removal guys are coming over first thing, they're taking our things over to the new house, it's nothing for them to take yours as well."

We continue walking through the hall, finally reaching the foyer where Taylor is waiting for Gail by the elevator. He smiles briefly as we reach him. It makes a change to see him in casual clothes - just jeans and t-shirt, similar to how he was dressed during our honeymoon. I still feel a pang of guilt knowing that he had to follow us around on our honeymoon; being away from Gail and Sophie must have been tough. I couldn't even begin to imagine being away from Christian or Blip for a day, let alone three weeks!

"Now before you get the chance to say anything else, we're fine! Go and catch a movie, have dinner or just chill in your hotel room - everything's on us!" I grin at them, both of them breaking out into a smile themselves. "Well, it's on Christian!" I wink before giggling.

"Thank you Ana." Gail embraces me, squeezing me tightly into her hold.

"Yes, thank you Mrs Grey. We sure do appreciate it." Taylor intrudes, placing his hand on Gail's arm to move things along.

"It's nothing. You guys deserve a break, especially seeing tomorrow is going to be hectic for all of us!"

I wave to them as the elevator doors close around them, Taylor holding Gail to his chest with one arm. A small but intimate gesture, one that sends shivers down my spine when Christian does that with me.

_Finally!_

I feel a wave of relief wash over me as I relish in knowing that Christian and I are alone. Truly alone. No security, no staff. Just my husband and I.

After a long evening on Monday of mind-blowing kinky fuckery in the bedroom, Christian showing off his amazing improvising skills, we decided that for our last night here, in the Escala apartment, we wanted to be alone. With both Christian and I working flat-out this week neither of us have even started packing, therefore leaving it to a mad rush this evening!

I stagger through the apartment to find Christian. Looking through each room I find him in the TV room, packing up the collection of DVD's and games from the hidden storage system into various cardboard boxes. He has his back turned away from the door, grabbing as many items as he can, before launching them into the boxes with grace and ease. Even in the most mundane tasks he is stunning and perfect. Unable to resist the urge I creep up behind him, throwing my arms around his waist startling him.

"_Jesus!_ Ah, I wish you wouldn't do that!" He turns his head to the side to look at me through the corner of his piercing grey eyes. I see a trace of a smirk on his lips.

"You don't like me surprising you and wanting to hug you?" I whimper like a child into his spine as I nuzzle him, feeling his taunt stomach through his t-shirt.

"Hugging - absolutely! Jumping out on me, almost giving me a heart attack - I could live without that!" He continues his task, dragging me around the floor. I hang on to him, my arms wrapped tightly around his chest, my fingers locked and intertwined.

"Gail and Taylor have gone."

"Oh, good. Did you tell them to do whatever they want?" He asks whilst filling one of the full boxes already set down on the couch.

"Yup. Told them it's all on you."

"Good, they deserve a night off."

In one swift movement he swings around to face me, my hands remain locked, surrounding him in a wall of Ana.

"Now, as much as I love this little arrangement we have here, we've got a lot to do. We've got to finish in here, then we've got to wrap the pictures and then we have to tackle the closets."

"Ugh. Don't remind me! Maybe we'll learn never to leave packing until the night before in future?"

"Well, I don't know about you but I don't plan on us moving again! This new house is gonna be our first and last home baby!" He stoops down and brings his lips to mine, kissing me chastely. It's gentle, but has that magical pull running through us.

"Hm -"

"I know. Right, go find something to do wench!" He pushes me away, turning me around, before playfully shoving me in the direction of the door. I start to walk away but he slaps me square on my behind. I jolt forward, squealing.

"I'm going! No need to spank me!" I giggle even though I try to remain stern. He breaks out into a full grin, throwing his head back in hysterics.

"All in good time baby. We'll have dinner when I've finished in here and you've made a start on something!" Raising his eyebrows at as I stand there with my arms wrapped around my swollen bump.

"Take out?"

"That sounds great. Go. Now! Or else we'll be at this all night, and I have other plans in mind!"

Excited I swirl around, heading out of the TV room in a leap, matching my inner goddess who's practising her gymnastic floor routine, jumping and cartwheeling all over the apartment. I practically skip through the rest of the apartment into our bedroom. As I enter I am faced with the daunting task ahead of me. Several large boxes are stacked on the floor at the end of our bed, with three large suitcases open on the bed and too many dress bags to count.

_Why did I decide to start in here?_

* * *

My arms are growing heavy and my legs have started tingling from kneeling on the floor for too long. I glance down to my BlackBerry beside me to check the time; 17:58PM. I've been clearing out our closet for little over an hour and half and have barely made a dent, only managing to pack our rather ridiculous collection of shoes - I swear Christian has almost as many as I do!I've filled two of the large boxes with shoes.

Desperate to take a break I push back off my knees, falling on to my behind, picking up my phone and tapping out an email.

* * *

**From: Anastasia Grey**

**Subject: BORED!**

**Date: 18th November 2011 18:00:59PM**

**To: Christian Grey**

I am in way over my head! I haven't even made a significant contribution in the bedroom and I've been here for ages. :(

I'm bored and fed up and we're getting hungry.

How far have you gotten?

A

xxx

* * *

Twiddling my thumbs for a few seconds, contemplating firing up a game of BrickBreaker to occupy my mind, I eagerly await his reply. My phone springs to life as his message pings.

* * *

**From: Christian Grey**

**Subject: You sound it!**

**Date: 18th November 2011 18:03:21PM**

**To: Anastasia Grey**

For your delightful information the TV room is complete, everything packed and sealed. I've just started in my office - clearing out the things I want to take with us.

I'll order our dinner now, we can take a break and eat then continue later. I will not have my wife and child growing hungry or bored.

What would you like?

C

xxx

Christian Grey

CEO deserving a boy scout award in packing, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

* * *

**From: Anastasia Grey**

**Subject: Hm, choices!**

**Date: 18th November 2011 18:05:12PM**

**To: Christian Grey**

Pizza or Chinese.

You choose.

Can you come help me when you've ordered? I'm about to start pulling my hair out in a minute! This. Is. So. Boring.

A

xxx

* * *

**From: Christian Grey**

**Subject: Your wish is my command.**

**Date: 18th November 2011 18:07:01PM**

**To: Anastasia Grey**

Pizza it is. I don't think you'll appreciate Chinese at three o'clock in the morning.

I'm on my way baby! Leave your hair alone. I love your hair.

C

xxx

Man on a mission and CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

* * *

Reading his email I shut down my phone, taking in one last look of Blip before setting it down in front of me. I pluck up the courage to lean forward again and make a start on the first of our two enormous dressers. _Why we have this much shit?_

Grabbing some unworn sweaters from the bottom drawer I hurl up on to my feet, clutching them to my chest, making my way over to the bed to set them into the suitcases. His footsteps echo through the hall, growing louder as he reaches our bedroom. _Bare feet_. I moan to myself, growing weak at the knees just at the sound of his bare feet gliding across the cool wooden floors.

"Fear not, your knight is here." He slides into the room reaching me in seconds, taking me in his arms and nuzzling into my neck.

"Thank fuck for that!"

"Mrs Grey!"

"What? This is mind-numbingly boring, we have far too much stuff, stuff that we don't even use! We're never going to finish!" I throw the rest of the sweaters I cannot be bothered to neatly stack into the suitcases. Christian reaches forward and starts to fold them, silently packing them as I move out of his way and his hold.

"Baby, have a sit down. I'll carry on with this." He eyes me.

"That's not exactly fair leaving you to all of this!"

"No, what's not fair is you having to go through all the stress of carrying our child and having to adjust to a whole new lifestyle and body. I just wish I could do something." His eyes lowering, concentrating on filling the suitcase.

"I know you do, but you are! You're keeping me going, without you I'd be a wreck. You think of everything for me, I literally have nothing to think about."

"We both know that's not true." His grey eyes meeting my blue once more, full of concern.

"I was hoping to just forget all that. Work's sorted - Danielle is on a trial. One toe out of line and she's out. She's agreed to having her calls monitored to make sure he doesn't contact her again. And, well, as for the Elena shit, maybe she was just being nice."

He huffs, walking back over to the dressers, emptying the contents of the bottom and third drawer. "Elena doesn't do nice. Believe me."

"Maybe she just wants to get in with your Mom again and she thinks we're the vessel to do that?" I continue unphased by his 'are you being fucking serious' face. "She has contacted Grace a thousand times!"

"I suppose. I know her. She doesn't do anything without a hidden agenda."

"What else would expect from a sick, fucked up, ultimate psycho, fucking bitch troll?"

A moment of silence follows my burst, Christian standing frozen until he finally erupts in hysterical laughter.

_"Ultimate psycho, fucking bitch troll?"_

"Haven't heard that before have you?" I screw my face up realising that from his reaction Kate has been the only ears to stumble across my pleasant nickname for Elena.

"Another first Mrs Grey. Another first." He continues to fill the suitcase, pushing the clothes down until there is no room left inside. Flipping the lid he seals the zipper and lifts it from the bed, walking it over to the door and setting it down. "Now, let's go and grab that damn pizza."

"Thank God, Blip is about to go all 'Christian Grey' on your ass if he has to wait any longer!" I leap off the bed, surprised with my virility and energy for almost four months pregnant.

Christian holds his hand out to me as I step nearer to him, maneuvering the boxes spread out of the floor. I take his hand, letting my fingers slip in between his. Pulling me close into his chest he kisses the top of my head, stroking my bump with his free hand.

"I love that he's got a little part of me in him already."

"I love it too. Just like his Daddy. But I would appreciate a little less of the extreme mood swings!" I say sternly looking down at my bump.


	20. Chapter 20

**Disclaimer: The characters portrayed in this story reflect those in E L James's Fifty Shades Trilogy, therefore they remain her property. The plot and themes in this story are those of the author. The author is in no way affiliated with James. No copyright infringement intended.**

**Thank you once more for your reviews! I love receiving them! :)**

**Someone so rightly pointed out that the Grey's should have someone to pack their belongings for them, and you're right. I was hoping I had conveyed my meaning behind this but re-reading it I notice I should have clarified it more - sorry! :) They are taking only a small amount from the Escala apartment to the new house - clothes, photos, stuff from the study and a few pieces of furniture (more on this later!) I know Ana is complaining there is a lot to do but in retrospect there isn't - she's just over-reacting through boredom and hunger and wanting to get down with Mr Grey ;) I also wanted it to come across that this is something that makes them 'normal'. Ana is always craving normality - away from the billionaire lifestyle. It would be easy for them to just get Gail to do the packing for them, but this gives the Grey's some quality time with one another - some vanilla time!**

**I hope this has cleared it up for you guys! If at any point there is something you feel I have lapsed on, or haven't explain very well, feel free to post a review! I don't want to confuse any of you!**

**LEMONS! ;)**

**Much love to you all! :)**

* * *

The mouth-watering aroma of hot pizza sends me into a sensory overload as Christian re-emerges in the kitchen with our dinner, carrying the box at end height.

"One delicious, vegetarian pizza. Fresh from the ovens of the finest Italian take-out in the whole of Seattle." He sets the box down in front of me, flipping the lid open allowing the steam to escape along with the heavenly smell. "Only the best for my wife and child" he whispers, kissing the top of my head and pulling into the stool beside me.

"Hm -" I take out the first slice and admire it lovingly. Unable to contain my hunger I bring it to my lips, taking a huge bite and releasing the loudest moan I've ever given, knowingly, as it tingles my taste buds. Licking my lips as I devour it.

"Jesus Ana, are you doing this on purpose?"

I flash my eyes open, confused, bringing my glance to Christian. I raise my eyebrow at him, examining him as he takes a slice from the box.

"Huh?"

"It's taking all my might not to throw you on this counter and fuck you. Hard." His eyes full of passion and intent. He leans back in his stool, bringing his crotch to my attention, his erection bulging in his jeans.

I laugh at the sight, and my unexpected effect on him. "Maybe you should just give in?"

"I'd love to, but you need to eat first. I don't want you to pass out on me."

Slightly disheartened and aroused I shift in my stool, returning to my dinner.

I find myself rushing through my half of the pizza, as if I need to continue eating, unable to stop. Finishing up my last slice and falling back against the small back-rest of the stool, I pick up a piece of kitchen paper to wipe my hands and mouth. Christian is eyeing me with dismay, still on his penultimate slice.

"So, when you're done can you help me in the bedroom?" I ask him, knowing I can't deal with it myself. Even though we have so little to do, just packing up our clothes and a few important documents from Christian's study that will need to be taken to the new house, I just can't do it myself. I've always hated packing; I barely managed it with Kate when we first moved to Seattle - Kate is a good motivator, using her Kavanagh skills of threatening to kick your ass if you don't get a move on, and we were lucky enough to have Elliot to help us.

"Sure. In all honesty, you did choose the most tedious task. It'll be done soon baby."

"I know, but you'd already claimed the TV room and I don't know what you want to take from your office." I state, fiddling with the lid of the pizza box.

"Well be grateful that tomorrow we have a team of experts helping us, as well as Mrs Jones, security and my family."

Christian rises from his stool having finished his food at last, taking the box from my fingers and taking it over to the bin.

"What would I do without you?" I open my arms waiting for him to step into them. He stands over on the other side of counter for a few seconds. "Grey! Get your ass over here and take your wife in your arms!" I giggle as he jumps to attention, leaping over to me in lightning quick response.

"Well Mrs Grey, you don't have to ask me twice." He stands in between my legs, wrapping his arms around me as I wrap my own around his waist. "You'll never have to know baby", whispering as he strokes my hair.

"I could stay here forever." I nuzzle his chest through his t-shirt, taking in his smell. That amazing and comforting smell of body wash and Christian.

"I thought you were looking forward to moving to the new house?"

"I meant here, now, in your arms!" I prod him as I feel his chest rise and fall rapidly as he laughs.

"Come on, let's get this done and then we have the night to ourselves."

* * *

Flopping backwards on to the bed I let out the biggest sigh of relief. Finally, after an hour of emptying our closet into the suitcases we are done.

"Now, is Mrs Grey happier now that this is done?" Christian slips down next to me, lying on his side and stroking my cheek gently.

"Very much! Just your study and we're done right?"

"Yes, there's only a few things in there I need to take so that shouldn't take too long. The removal company are coming over at 8 in the morning to wrap up the pool table and the piano."

"I'm glad we're bringing the pool table, we've had some good times with that table Mr Grey!" I turn to face him, rolling on to my side. He continues to stroke my cheek which is burning under his touch.

"We have, and we have many more to come in the new house baby!"

We lie there looking into each others eyes for short while, surrounded with our suitcases and boxes all over the bedroom. Christian breaks first, lifting himself from the bed and pulling me up with him.

We find ourselves into the study. I slump into his chair, swivelling around and humming to Blip. Christian works with a fast ease emptying his filing cabinet into a lockable briefcase, before setting it into one of the cardboard boxes on the floor.

"Baby, what are you doing?" I question as he flicks through each file then setting it into the briefcase.

"Just making sure I have everything I need."

"But why do you need _those_ files?" I nod to him acknowledging that the files he is taking from the drawer are those of his former subs. _The sub drawer_.

"Insurance policy. I don't trust any of them. I have everything I need in these to make sure that nothing gets out; contracts, photographs, the works. If I could just burn them I would, but I don't want to risk it getting out. Baby, I don't want you to -"

I raise my hand to silence him, continuing to swirl in his chair, seeing him for a moment then rotating around the room taking everything in. "I don't need to know everything. I was just asking. I understand!"

"That's one of the many reasons why I love you." He makes his way over to me, sauntering around his desk, grabbing hold of my chair to stop me from spinning around.

I grin up at him, feeling meek and small in comparison as he towers over me, licking his lips.

"Maybe you should show me how much you love me?"

"Here?" He raises his eyebrow to me, questioning my choice.

"Why not? Call it re-enacting a favourite scene. We've had a lot of mind-blowing sex in here." I divert my eyes from him, stroking my fingers down the arms of the chair, biting my lip.

Christian growls at me, launching his arms around me and lifting me from the chair. He hastily pushes everything on his desk to one side, setting me down on the edge then lowering me down so my back is flat against it. Its coolness startles my skin even through my t-shirt. Standing between my thighs, his hands running all over my torso, lifting up my t-shirt to expose my bare chest.

"No bra, Mrs Grey?" Licking his lips as his fingers rub my nipples, making them tingle and twist. "Hm, very nice. I approve."

I moan as he continues his onslaught, twisting and tugging at them. Everything south brings to tighten and clench. I press my thighs against him, pulling him closer into me.

"Now, the real question is do you have any panties on?" His hands leave my breasts, skimming down my bump, reaching the hem of my sweat pants. He lingers there, trailing his finger across it, stroking and sending electricity flying through me. _Please. Yes._

He slides his hand down my sweats, stroking my sex gently. _Harder. Oh, please, harder._ I moan uncontrollably, needing him.

"Mrs Grey, you never fail to disappoint."

I pant as his continues, rubbing my sex. Circling. Fast and hard. Everything starts to quicken and I can feel the spasms rising, my legs beginning to shake against him. Arching my back preparing for climax his hands leave me. I groan, needing him.

I edge upwards to look at him. He stands there gloriously naked from the waist down. Standing to attention. I lick my lips ready for him.

"Lie down." He whispers, sliding back between my legs, grabbing my sweats and pulling them down and off my body, tossing them on the floor.

"Christian, please..."

Answering my needs he dips the tip of his length into me, then slamming hard against me.

"Oh god..." I moan as he pulls out, slowly, feeling his whole length exit my body, then filling me again as he thrusts in harder and faster than the time before.

"Ana." Grunting and panting, thrusting harder, forcing the desk to rock and move slightly. "Come for me."

His words are the breaking point, sending me over the edge, arching my back rising up to him as my orgasm reaches its peak. I scream out until he stills inside me, surrendering to his own climax.

"Fuck, Ana."

Collapsing on to my chest, lying between my breasts he pants hard and quick, completely spent.

I run my fingers through his copper hair, massaging his scalp. He moans from my touch, moving to suckle my nipple; taking it between his teeth and teasing it.

"Christian?"

He mumbles a 'Yes' to me, refusing to remove my breast from his mouth.

"Christian if I ask for something would you do it?"

I jolts upright, worry creeping over his face, pulling his face closer to mine to look me in the eyes.

"Ana what's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong. I just want something." I reach up to cup his face, to soothe him and take away his worry.

"Anything."

"Take me to the playroom." I whipser, the words escaping my lips, my voice breaking at the end. Biting down on my lip his eyes examine me, narrowing, moving from my Christian to dominant Christian.


	21. Chapter 21

**Disclaimer: The characters portrayed in this story reflect those in E L James's Fifty Shades Trilogy, therefore they remain her property. The plot and themes in this story are those of the author. The author is in no way affiliated with James. No copyright infringement intended.**

**Just one big LEMON! ;)**

* * *

Leading me up the stairs, Christian pulls me behind him. I try to keep up with him but my body fails me; he turns to face me, eager and slightly annoyed, until he realises and slows down. I thought he would refuse to take me into the playroom, but he seems as ready and wanting as I do. He needs this. He needs me.

He releases my hand as we reach the doors, taking out his keys from the back pocket of his jeans. The Seattle keychain I gave him hangs proudly from the lone key; the 'yes' no longer flashing but a reminder of my agreeing to marry him, my agreeing to submit myself to him and give him every part of me. I'm no longer nervous entering this room; I know he won't hurt me. I know that this is no longer about pain or his need to seek whatever sort of revenge he needed against the crack whore. That ended a long time ago. This is just kinky fuckery. Our kinky fuckery. I still blush when I replay the first time I heard him say those words - how blasé he was.

I've changed a lot in such a short time. I no longer stand afraid and embarrassed when I'm naked in front of him. If anything, Christian has taught me to love my body as much as he does. Though the new changes to my body are threatening to change this, as I grow uncomfortable with the swell of my body.

"Are you sure you want this?" He takes my face in his hands, cupping my jaw and staring intently into my blue eyes.

"Yes."

"You know what to do." He turns the key in the lock and opens the door fully, stepping to the side to allow me to enter. The room springs to light; a dim light accenting the red of a room I have grown to love and miss through his refusal of taking me in here.

The door closes behind me and I turn, expecting him but he's gone. In a rush I lift off my t-shirt, throwing it on the floor near the cabinent of toys, tossing my sweats with them.

I step over to my spot on the floor, kneeling down into position, parting my thighs to his desired width and resting my arms on them, my hands cupping my knees. Butterflies begin to swirl through my stomach, and I'm unable to differentiate if it's Blip or anticipation. I keep my head low and fixate my eyes on a spot on the wooden floors waiting for him to come in. He doesn't keep me waiting long, entering the room and slamming the door behind him. Ignoring me.

He walks elegantly behind me, his bare feet tickling the floor as he sets things down on the cabient. I can hear my panting growing fast and loud. _Keep it together! _

"Stand." His voice cuts through me, breaking the silence. I rise to my feet as quickly as I can, heaving myself from the floor, clutching my modest bump as I stand.

"Turn around. Face me." His voice is stern and dominant. I turn quickly and face him, my eyes at the floor and salivating over his bare feet and his jeans. _Those jeans_. "Look at me."

Gingerly I lift my eyes, taking him in as they rise. His ripped jeans unbuttoned and showing that he is bare beneath them. His happy trail on show; the urge to reach out and follow it uncontrollable. I fist my hands at my side to stop me. His chiselled and perfect stomach glowing from a slight sweat built up in his study. Finally I reach his eyes; his perfect, narrow grey eyes, piercing straight through me. His eyes flutter around mine for a second then skimming my body, examining every inch of me.

"Beautiful." He whispers as he circles me like a panther; circling his prey before the attack. All of the hairs on my body stand up on end. I shiver as his fingers make contact with my lower spine, tingling furiously as he traces my curve until he reaches the nape of my neck. "Do you want me to braid your hair?" His voice quiet, calm but stern.

"Yes." I stutter, my breathing unsteady and hefty.

"Yes what?" He wraps my hair around his wrist, tugging my head backwards with force.

"Sir! Yes Sir."

"Good girl."

Taking my hair and seperating it into three strands, he makes easy work of braiding it. _He's had a lot of practice_. I shove this out of my mind. _He's had a lot of practice with me! _When he finishes, tying it with a hair band he had on him, he pushes it over my shoulder to hang down beside my right breast.

Christian stands close behind me, his breath cool against my skin.

"You will tell me if it's too much?"

"Yes."

"No, Ana -" he walks around to face me, taking my face in his hands. His face shifting back to my Christian for a second. "You will tell me if you need to stop. I don't want to hurt you."

"I will. Safeword."

"No safeword. Just say stop and I will."

I nod and he switches; standing upright, military like.

"I'm going to blindfold you, then I will cuff you to the bed." I follow him with my eyes as he saunters over to the cabinent grabbing the blindfold.

I close my eyes just before he reaches me, ready for him to slip it over my eyes. When I feel the mask slide into place I am plunged into complete darkness, all of my other senses heightened. Christian leads me across the room, guiding me slowly. He turns me and I feel the bed at the back of my knees.

"Down." He says bluntly, easing me on to the bed. Once lying I swing my legs and slide up the bed, knowing which position to get into.

"Spread your legs."

I do as he says, my sex throbbing and desperate for him. He wraps his fingers around my ankle, placing a cuff around it and then clipping it to the bed, so my leg is completely straight. He does the same with my other leg, until my legs are wide apart. As he goes to secure my hands he runs his fingers up the inside of my thigh, tantalising my skin. The slightest touch setting my blood on fire. He loiters around the apex of my thighs, brushing past it, only touching it slightly. I crave him, growing wet down there.

"Always so eager." I can hear the smirk on his lips as he teases me.

Reaching my hands he pulls me up the bed a little more, attaching the cuff around my wrist and then clipping it to one of the bed posts. Repeating the process with the other, he tests the straps, making sure I am secure and unable to bend my arms or my legs. Satisified he walks away, leaving me there - exposed. His footsteps flooding the room, gaining more distance. _Is he over by the cabinent? _

The room is plunged into silence, just my breathing interrupting the quiet, until the music begins. The soft, orgasmic sounds of Thomas Tallis. A smile creeps across my mouth and a small giggle escapes from the memories of the last time I experienced Tallis. _Oh God, please._

I begin to lose myself in the sounds, anticipation setting my skin alight. Listening to the rise and fall of the melody, matching the lift of my chest as I take each breath slowly, deep and filling my lungs to the maximum.

"Ah!" I scream out as I feel the first hit, on my inner thigh. It's sharp and teasing. _Is it the whip?_ It's not the flogger.

"Silence." He hits me again, higher up this time, nearer to my sex.

I struggle against the restrainants, arching my back as much as I can as he trails the whip against my sex, teasing me, circling me. _Oh, please. Harder._

"Shall I make you come this way?" Continuing to rub the end of the whip against me, bringing me to the point of climax then slowing, forcing me to loiter there, unsatisified.

"Yes." I plead with him, my muscles starting to quicken and twist.

"Do you make the decisions in here?" He hits me again, this time directly at my sex. I jolt as it stings, almost unbearable.

"No!" I scream out, throbbing from the hit.

"No what?" He strikes again, harder this time.

"No! Sir!" I pant as he matches his movements to the music, bringing me to the point of orgasm as the melody reaches a crescendo, then stopping. It's too much.

He moves the whip up my stomach, gently allowing it to skim my bump until he reaches my breasts. He flicks the whip against my erect nipples; lightly swatting them. I twist against the cuffs, the sensation pushing down deep into my stomach. _Please._

I cannot hold on any longer, feeling everything south starting to pulsate.

"Christian."

"What?" He flicks the whip on my breasts, hitting me again.

"Please..." I moan, the tingling spreading through me, right through to my core.

"What do you want?" He stills, removing the whip from my sensitive and flushed skin.

"You... Now... Please!"

I hear the whip fall to the ground, the clatter interrupting the sweet melody. I quickly feel him, against my thighs. His hand finds me, slipping his long fingers into my sex.

"Always ready for me."

His fingers circle rapidly then pulling out completely. I open my mouth in protest, needing more. _Please, God give me more._ Before the words can find their way around my tongue and out of my mouth he slams into me, filling me fast.

"Ana!"

I squeeze around him as he slams in, thrusting inside until I can take no more of him, then pulling out and repeating. His whole length, slipping into me. In and out. Hard and fast. But he's holding back, going easy on me.

"Ah, Christian. Faster. Please!" I scream to him.

"Ana I can't. Baby, I can't."

"God, I'm not made of glass. Harder!"

He accepts, pushing further inside and picking up the pace. _Oh, yes_.

"Come Ana. Come for me." He grunts through his teeth.

I clench around him, my climax spreading through me. My legs turning to Jell-O and shake; the spasms spread through me, jerking my stomach and twisting every muscle inside me.

I scream out until he finds his release, the thrusts becoming long and slow as he stills inside me.

* * *

"Welcome back."

My eyes flicker as he removes the blindfold from my eyes, the light from the room stinging my eyes as they adjust. My arms and legs are already free; I lay there unresponsive as he undid them. The music continues on loop around us; I have no idea how long we've been in here, though the ache between my thighs suggests a while.

"How do you feel?" His arms pull me close into him. I rest my head on his chest feeling his racing heart beneath my ear.

"Thoroughly well fucked." I mumble, giggling against him. His chest hair tickling my face.

"I hope not, I want to fuck you against the wall before the night is over."

"Hm, yes sir!" I purr as seductive as I can.

"No sir." Christian grabs my chin and lifts my head up to him. "It's me baby."

"Thomas Tallis?" I lower my head once more, unable to hold it up any more. My whole body is falling, coming down from complete heaven to exhaustion.

"I do love to fuck you to that piece."

"It is amazing!" I nuzzle into him, taking in his smell of Christian and sweat.

"Are you tired?" His fingers stroking the braid out of my hair.

"Hm-" I hurl myself up, to sit beside him. "I am a little, but I do believe I still owe for the other day." I smirk at him, crawling down the bed, lifting my knee over his thighs to straddle him.

"Ana -" He throws his head back, taking in a deep breath, as I take him. My hands pumping his base as my lips wrap around his tip.

I take him slow at first, mimicking his treatment of me, then pushing him back in my throat. Lifting and lowering my head fast.

He grows thicker and harder as I swirl my tongue around him.

"Fuck. Ana!" He fists his fingers through my hair, holding my head in place as he lifts his hips, controlling his length inside me.

I glance up through my lashes as he comes undone, spilling into my mouth. I swallow quickly and swirl my tongue one last time before taking him out of my mouth.

"God, you are fucking amazing Mrs Grey." He groans, panting.

"I learnt from the best, Mr Grey."


	22. Chapter 22

**Disclaimer: The characters portrayed in this story reflect those in E L James's Fifty Shades Trilogy, therefore they remain her property. The plot and themes in this story are those of the author. The author is in no way affiliated with James. No copyright infringement intended.**

**Thank you once again for your reviews! :) **

**I'm glad you have responded well to the playroom chapter - I didn't feel as if I did a good job but it was necessary for the Grey's! It's part of who they are! :)**

**More coming up in the next few chapters! They do say that the biggest stresses in life are marriage, moving house and having a child - feeling very sorry for Ana!**

**Much love! :)**

* * *

The drive to our new home is agony. Christian and I have yet to see the house since Elliot finished all the building work, and we have no idea if our expectations and designs have worked out. Has Gia kept to our plans? Is this house going to live up to my ideals of how I have envisioned it for the past several months since finding out Christian had brought the place? Is all the furniture going to arrive on time and in one piece?

Christian thought it best for us to ride over to the house with the SUV, enough room to carry most of our belongings with us. Taylor is driving over my R8 with the suitcase we were unable to squish into the back of the SUV; Sawyer and Ryan are bringing over the other cars later today as they are already over at the house watching over the comings and goings until we get there. Grace and Carrick are overseeing everything, making sure that all of our things make their way to the correct room and the team of removal guys pack everything into the right place - I know that at some point Christian will do a walk through and tell them to move everything again. My Fifty, forever the perfectionist. The idea of leaving out a playroom from this house is beginning to seem more thankful as the day goes on - It not only means that we have a reason to go back to Escala, the place where all this started, every once in a while, but it saved us from a lot of awkward conversations from Elliot and Grace. How would we explain a room that's locked off and they're not allowed to enter it? What would they think is in there? I shudder at the thought of Christian's cool exterior giving them some believeable thought from the depths of his mind, me standing there blushing furiously giving away the lie.

I feel exhausted; waking up at 6am on a Saturday is ridiculous, though the excitement of what the day brings was enough to kick-start me into gear, rushing through my shower and breakfast. I did one last sweep of the apartment after three young men packed the pool table, piano and my desk from the library into the removal truck in the garage. All of them were obsessing with Christian, most definitely in hope of getting a large tip from the billionaire; I don't think it worked, he offered them the 'am I paying you to talk to me', stern look until they backed off.

Kings of Leon 'Back Down South' fills the car, easing the excitement slightly but I shift in my seat growing more and more impatient. Christian holds on to my hand, strumming my knuckles with his thumb and fiddling with my wedding ring as he drives with elegance, manoeuvering the other cars easily. He occasionally brings my hand to his lips, sensing my nerves. I glance over to him, catching him staring at me through the corner of his eye and smiling.

"Everything's going to be perfect, baby." The tone of his voice, soft and gentle, is enough to quash my anxiety for the time being.

I stare out of the windscreen as we creep closer to the gates. _This is it_.

I take a deep breath and close my eyes to focus. Christian winds down his window to speak into the intercom, but by the time he does the gates open - clearly Sawyer or Ryan acknowledging that the boss has arrived.

The trees on either side of the drive are shredding their leaves, becoming bare and showing the signs of the winter ahead of us. They still offer privacy from the outside world, something I'm sure was on the specification when Christian started looking at homes. Our new drive is long, passing the meadow as we edge closer to the house. The meadow where, in the summer, we can sit with Blip having a picnic, taking in the sun and the breeze. When Blip's older he can run around, through the long grass, while Christian and I chase him to make him squeal.

The car comes to a stop and my summer dreams fall from my mind. Christian has pulled the car up next Kate's Mercedes, on the driveway at the front of the house. The stone walls reflect the Seattle sun beautifully, the windows shining and gleaming. It's so much bigger than I remembered. I'm speechless. _Is this really ours?_

"Are you ready?" I turn to face Christian watching him as he starts to open his door.

I nod, unable to speak.

He meets me at my door, helping me to step down. I clutch him to my chest, grabbing him from around his back and pulling him into me. My head resting on his heart. His slow beating, rhythmic heart beat.

"You ready to come and see the house?" He reaches down, cupping my face and bringing me up to him.

"_Our_ house." I smile back to him.

Finally. I place we can call ours.

* * *

Gia greets us as we enter our house, bombarded with noise and a mix of familiar and strange voices. She's fairly casual today, wearing a red, cotton blouse and grey slacks, accompanied with black flats - somehow she gave off the impression that she'd rather be seen dead than wear flats! Her hair loose, pushed behind her ears.

"Christian. Ana. Welcome to your humble abode!" She embraces me, awkwardly. I let my hands hang at my sides waiting for her to let me go. She seems to know better than to approach Christian, instead offering her hand to him.

She guides us around the house, proudly showing off her work. It's breathtaking. Everything I imagined and more!

The kitchen is pristine and homely, cream with light grey accents. The wooden floor I fell in love with remains under our feet, waxed and lively once more, restored to its original condition. I watch as several guys attempt to hang our paintings; our honeymoon paintings, the one's Christian paid an insane amount of money for. They bring colour to the room, personality and so many memories.

We check out the family room, already filled with our new plush couch and big screen, I smile as I remember us spending hours in the store picking out the couch - Christian and I testing each and every one until we found our favourite, the duck-egg corner couch with white decorative cushions. The sales person lit up when he realised which one we had chosen, which of course was the most luxurious and expensive in the designers collection. We kiss Grace and Carrick as we walk through, thanking them for their help thus far.

The whole house is full of light, every window angled to bring in every inch of the day to our lives. I'm grateful to see that the wall of glass is sympathetic to the rest of the house, rather than the main focal point. The sound glistens in the background, the water bobbing gently with the light chill.

Everyone around us is rushing, carrying heavy and cumbersome pieces of furniture through the house and into the many rooms. Kate and Elliot fleet past us carrying the boxes from the SUV, Taylor close behind them setting off up the beautiful staircase with our suitcases. Christian and I leave Gia as she accosts one of the workmen, yelling that he shouldn't just leave empty packaging lying around. We head up the staircase to check how the rest of the house is coming along. The new carpet soft under my converse, springing back to life as I shift my weight.

"No! Don't go in there!" Christian pulls me back to his side, away from the door I was ready to open.

"Why? What's wrong?" I stand confused. What's wrong with Blip's room?

"Nothing, it's a surprise." He winks and I melt, following him as he leads me off around the rest of the upper floor.

All of the rooms are as we planned. Every colour exactly that of the swatches Gia gave us, especially our bedroom. It's slightly smaller than the one at Escala, but the closet is much bigger as is the ensuite. Our bed, our new white sleigh bed is already in place, facing the large bay window overlooking the sound. The walls are stone coloured, calm with light blue accents in the curtains pulled back surrounding the window, framing it beautifully. Serene and peaceful with our new antique dressers opposite us, open as a young blonde girl packs away our clothes. Christian assured me that she is from Neiman's - one of Caroline's assistants. She offered to help un-pack our clothing as she sets in the rest of my new wardrobe, the ones that required the pregnant lady support stitched into the bodices.

"Baby, I don't want you to fluster over all of this. Why don't you go and find Kate, Mia and my Mom and take off for lunch?"

"Christian I'm not going to leave you all here to deal with everything!"

"I mean it, by the time your back everything will be done. Then we can kick everyone out and christen our new home." He winks at me, whispering the latter, acknowledging the listening ears in the room.

"But -"

"Ana. Just do as I tell you." He cups me around my nape, lowering his face to mine and kissing my lips gently. "I'm sure Kate is more than ready for a liquid lunch, my Mom will be grateful to spend some time with her daughter-in-law, and well, I'm sure everyone else here will be thankful to see the back of Mia."

I giggle thinking of how everyone is coping with Mia pounding around the place hassling everyone. I agree to Christian's keen suggestion to get rid of all of us, leaving the men to the real work. Kate jumped at the chance to stash away a few margaritas, insisting on packing away my share dipping her head to my bump. Christian bargained with only sending Ryan with us instead of a whole fleet of security. He pressured me into at least having one with his whole 'i'm not letting you drive whilst you're pregnant' lecture. I gave in, tired of hearing it for the hundredth time.

After changing out of my sweats and into a pair of slimming maternity jeans - I need all the help I can get - I head out of the door, out into the waiting SUV.

"Ana!"

I swirl around to see Gail coming up behind me, carrying a basket.

"Gail." I smile to her as she reaches me, the basket coming into full view. It's white, wrapped in sellophane. Inside is a large white rabbit cuddly toy with a yellow ribbon. Several items of baby clothes inside - bibs, all-in-ones and diapers. A bottle of champagne sits beside them.

"This came for you." She unclips the card from the side, passing it over to me.

"Thank you, can you take it inside and put it somewhere safe? I'm just about to head off."

"Of course, have a wonderful afternoon. I'll make sure everything is perfect for when you return." She assures me.

"Thank you. Just take it easy."

"You have a wealthy team of hard-working young men, I doubt I'll have much to do bar cook for them." She laughs ending off back into the house.

I climb into the SUV, sliding in beside Kate, Mia on the other side of her and Grace in the front alongside Ryan.

"What kept you so long Steele?" Kate bumps my arm eagerly waiting for us to set off.

"Hey!" I rub my arm feigning an injury, falling apart into laughter. "Some of us can't walk as fast now that they're carrying the next generation of Grey."

Everyone in the car bursts into grins, reaching over to rub my stomach - everyone bar Ryan of course, he remains fixated on the road. We all settle back into our seats, discussion leading to Kate's wedding plans, courtesy of Mia. I notice the card still in my hand. I run my finger over the name, handwritten on the front in elegant script: Mrs Anastasia Grey.

I flip it over, tearing open the envelope and pulling out a plain white card, with gold writing embellished on it. I read it and sit stunned, mouth open.

_Mrs Anastasia Grey,_

_Congratulations on your new home and your pregnancy._

_I hope they bring you all the joy in the world._

_Best Wishes_

_Yours,_

_Elena Lincoln_


	23. Chapter 23

**Disclaimer: The characters portrayed in this story are those in E L James's Fifty Shades Trilogy, therefore they remain her property. The plot and themes in this story are those of the author. The author is in no way affiliated with James. No copyright infringement intended.**

**Longer chapter for you guys!**

**As always, loving your reviews! I love that you are enjoying the story and are eagerly waiting to know more! With the weekend coming up, and the Olympics coming to a close (major distraction in itself :D) I will be able to invest more in writing! Even I need to know where this is going!**

**Much love to you :) x**

* * *

"So Ana, would do you think?"

"Huh?" I turn to face Mia, sitting at the other end of the car with her body directed towards me, leaning with one arm up against Ryan's headrest.

"The dresses?"

"I'm sorry, I must have zoned out. What were you talking about?" I run my fingers through my hair, pulling it back out of my face, and lift my head from my lap.

"Jeez Ana, what's wrong with you?" Kate chimes in, arms crossed around her body and her eyebrow raised.

"Nothing, I'm fine." I offer a slight smile but she opens her mouth to press on. I shake my head and she gets the hint.

"Tell me later?" She mouths to me, pulling her head towards me away from Mia who's staring at us obsessively.

Nodding my head I shove the card back into the envelope, and stash it away in to my purse. A million things swirl around my mind - how does she know where we live? How the hell did she find out about Blip? Do I tell Christian? He seems in such a good mood, bringing her up will only fuck things up again!

I had no idea where we were heading to until Ryan pulled the car into Christian's parking bay at the club. I smile as the car comes to a halt, looking up at the club and remembering our first time here - the food, the no panties at dinner and the elevator, although the ride this time is less memorable with Christian's mother beside me discussing pregnancy.

The club is pretty busy today, I assume that the guys who come here leap at the chance of having a Saturday to themselves, away from work and family. At first the maître d' throws Kate an awkward look, not willing to just offer up a table to a small group of women but she soon pulled the Christian Grey card, pointing in my direction as if I'm royalty or something.

"Mrs Grey! I apologise emphatically. Of course, this way."

He jumped from behind his desk to personally show us to our booth, I suspect this might be Christian's favourite, seeing as every time I have been here this is where I have ended up. I catch him pulling at his waistcoat, straightening it and then smoothing down his dark hair.

"Is Mr Grey joining you ladies at some point?" His dark eyes lighting up at the idea. I shoot him down quickly.

"Nope, just a girls lunch."

"Yeah, we want margaritas all around, virgin for this one!" Kate, sat beside me, points down above my head. I roll my eyes at her and the maître d'. _I suppose you should be grateful she didn't out yo! _I nod at my subconscious; I really don't appreciate the idea of someone running to a magazine with the news of a Baby Grey on the horizon - I can remember what they were like when the engagement came out; complete bedlam!

"Can I get a salad as well?" I ask, hunger spreading through me.

"Of course Mrs Grey, anything else for our favourite client." I shake my head and watch him turn on his heel.

We all burst into laughter as he scuttles off, trying his best to run but look casual at the same time. I suppose the name Grey really does get you far in life! A few faces around the room stare at us, well they're staring at me, beaming from ear to ear. Several of them lift their drinks to me; I have no idea how to react so settle for a weak smile and lowering my head back to my table, in hope that they won't approach me - Christian would really hit the roof if some guy started making at pass me. The sight of him knocking that guy in Aspen to the floor is enough to scare anyone, especially me. Angry, protective Christian is my least favourite side of Fifty.

The waiter settles my salad down in front of me, and the drinks to the others. They really have given a new meaning to 'liquid lunch'! I make a grab for my fork and dig in, anything to calm the growls in my stomach.

"How are you feeling dear?" I look up from my dish. Grace staring at me, happy to see me eating healthily. It's clearly not just Christian who enjoys watching me eat.

"Good, just hungry. I'm hungry pretty much all the time lately." I chuckle, uncomfortable with my recent food habits.

"That's good. You'll need a lot of nutrients to help with the baby's development, though I'm sure Christian is keeping you on top of things." She smiles, stirring her drink slowly.

"He's pretty much read every single baby related thing online. It's nice, a bit tedious but I'm glad that he's... you know?"

"Of course, in fact he's been calling me often asking for information, to clarify some things that he's read. It's lovely to see that he's trying his best to prepare and accept what's happening for you both."

"I doubt he can read about everything though. There's bound to be some things that we will have to learn as we go along." I take another bite of my salad, rubbing my bump with my free hand. _You'll keep us on our toes won't you? _I feel a flurry of butterflies inside and smile. _Yeah, well, try not to give Daddy a heart attack! Mommy does enough of that to last him a lifetime!_

Discussions quickly shift to Mia and Ethan, and their current non-existent relationship, and Kate's plans for the wedding. I zone in and out of the wedding talk, only chiming in when my response is necessary. Kate has chosen Lilac as her colour scheme - for the flowers, decor and dresses. I'm thankful that she has opted for empire-lined dresses, suitable for huge pregnant whale or flabby new Mom. Grace is delighted that Kate and Elliot have agreed to hold the wedding at the Grey house, and not hire out another venue. I hazard a guess that it was Elliot who pressed for this instead of Kate's beach wedding plans, but they have compromised on having the wedding in the grounds of the house - all open plan and making the most of the spring weather.

I find myself looking down at my purse as if the note is burning through to me; a flashing beacon drawing attention to me and what I know. _At this rate Christian will know before you have to open your mouth!_ Thinking of Christian I decide to reach down and grab my BlackBerry to check in on him. I narrowly bypass the envelope, refusing to even touch it.

* * *

**From: Anastasia Grey**

**Subject: Missing you**

**Date: 19th November 2011 14:29:04PM**

**To: Christian Grey**

Just wanted to check in with you. I'm missing you.

How is everything? Is everything running smoothly? I wish I was there helping, do you need us back?

I love you so much.

Ana

xxx

* * *

"Christian?" Kate pouts downing the last of her 3rd glass, raising the Kavanagh perfectly sculptured eyebrow to me.

I shrug my shoulders. "I just wanted to see how everything is. I feel helpless just sitting here, while they are all working hard."

"Come on, this is Christian he doesn't want you to lift a finger!"

"Yeah, and Ana, Christian is a perfectionist. He probably doesn't us around messing everything up!" Mia replies over her drink. Mia and Grace both laugh to themselves, Grace more so thinking how Christian probably doesn't want Mia around pestering everyone. It's strange to think how we are the same age, yet so different.

My BlackBerry springs to life, buzzing in the palm of my hand.

* * *

**From: Christian Grey**

**Subject: Missing you **

**Date: 19th November 2011 14:31:10PM**

**To: Anastasia Grey**

Please, we are fine. Everything is running perfectly, all but two rooms are complete - just adding the finishing touches to the family room at the moment. Gia and I are doing a walk-over soon to make sure everything is exactly how we want it. If there is anything you want to change then we can do that later.

Do not rush home, enjoy yourselves.

I am missing you so much as well, I look forward to having you alone to myself tonight. I've given Gail and Taylor the night off, allowing them to settle into their apartment.

I love you both very much.

C

xxx

Christian Grey

CEO moving house, working hard and missing his wife very much, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

* * *

**From: Anastasia Grey**

**Subject: I doubt it will be long...**

**Date: 19th November 2011 14:33:27PM**

**To: Christian Grey**

...before we return home. Kate is on her fourth drink and is already slurring her words. It seems I am not the only one who forgets to eat before consuming alcohol.

I'm sure the house will be perfect, knowing you and your standards ;) But I am excited to see the result, especially Blip's room!

We love you so much.

Ana and Blip

xxx

* * *

True to my word is wasn't long before we decided to head back home. Kate complaining how she could 'drink the place dry' and Mia starting to feel sick from the margaritas. I'm happy that I have Grace with me, to help deal with them both.

After charging the bill to Christian's account, Ryan sets off to bring the car around the front of the building.

Leaving reception Mia and Grace lead the way, heading out of the lobby doors first. I start to follow them until Kate grabs my arm and pulls me to her side.

"So, tell me what's happened!" She holds on to my arm, supporting herself. Her eyes are glassy, though she's not completely drunk - I think we made a wise decision to leave when we did!

"Kate, you can't say anything."

"Sure, I promise."

"Triple promise. You can't breathe a word, I don't know if I'm going to tell Christian yet." I lower my voice, walking slowly with Kate towards the lobby doors.

"That bad?"

"I don't know yet. Just before I was heading out Gail stopped me -"

"Gail?"

"Mrs Jones, our housekeeper." I nod to the doormen as we step out of the entrance, out into the cold chill.

"Oh yeah, okay."

"Well she gave me this basket, a gift. Apparently it arrived this morning. It had a cuddly toy and baby things in it, and a bottle of Champagne." I pull out the card from my purse and hand it over to Kate. "This came with it."

She eyes me with suspicion as she takes it from me, opening it and skimming over it. Her eyes widen and mouth falls open as she hits the bottom, jolting backwards with shock.

"What the fuck? Her again?"

"I know. I was just as shocked as you!"

"How does she even know? I mean, you've not told many people have you?"

I shake my head, turning to face her in the street. Grace and Mia are sliding into the car; I glance over to them and catch Ryan staring at us with concern, I raise my finger up at him to let him know we won't be long.

"I'd ditch it, throw it out, fucking burn it or whatever. That bitch is just trying to start shit again, look how she behaved at Christian's birthday."

"I don't know, maybe I should discuss it with Christian first? He knows her, maybe he'll know how to deal with this?"

"Ana, you can't tell him. He'll go postal. He can't find out. Just get rid of it and forget about her."

I shrug my shoulders. I really have no idea what I should do.

"Come on, let's go." I start to walk off, over to the car when she grabs me once more.

"Just promise me that you won't let this fuck things up again? I mean, just think how pissed off you were when you found out he saw her."

"Kate, he explained it to me. He didn't seek her out, they just stumbled into each other. Anyway, he's done and dusted with her. He wants her out of our lives as much as I do."

"Then more reason to forget about her and get rid of her bribe or whatever it is that she sent you."

Kate throws an arm around me and supports me as we walk over to the SUV. The shock of events must have sobered her up, though her words are still slurred.

"Mrs Grey." Ryan dips his head as I step into the back of the car, sliding in beside Mia.

I shake my head and clear my thoughts. Kate's right, I should just forget about her but I can't. I need to know why she's still poking around and trying to stay a fixture in our lives. Hasn't she taken the hint that we want nothing to do with her? Was Christian wiping his hands with the Esclava chain not enough to quash any doubts in her mind?

_It's not you she wants_. I wish I could switch off my thoughts, but as ever they speak the truth. I've always known that this is nothing to do with me, it's all about Christian. She made it pretty clear that night he got drunk with her that she wants him back. I need to set her straight once and for all. I need her out of my life.

I tap out a quick message to Christian to let him know that we're heading back, and settle back into my seat thinking of him. He's happy right now, there's no need to spoil that. I need to get rid of that basket before it causes anymore hassle than it already has done.

* * *

Ryan pulls into the only free space on our drive. The delivery trucks are being packed up and the flurry of people who filled the house are now emerging. I jump out of the car and sprint over to the house, Christian's voice is distinct and coming from upstairs. I follow the sound and begin to make my way up the staircase, ignoring the new furniture and changes to the house, desperate to find him.

He's in our bedroom, talking to Carrick and Elliot about some plans for the docks. His back is to the door, unaware that I'm home. Unable to contain myself anymore I leap across to him and pound into him, wrapping my arms around his waist and resting my head on his shoulder-blade.

"Jesus!" I feel him jerk against me.

"Sorry, I just needed a hug."

He twists around to face me, my arms still draped around him, keeping him close to me.

"Is everything okay?" He examines my face. His grey eyes narrowing as he takes in every inch of my expression.

"Yeah, I just missed you."

"I missed you too, though you've only been gone a few hours." He cups the side of my face with one hand. I nuzzle into it, aching for his touch. Aching for him to take away everything.

"I know, but I can't bear to be away from you." I close my eyes, fighting back the tears that threaten to fall.

"Ana." His voice shifts to sympathy as he pulls me close into his chest. He always knows when I'm feeling like this, and knows exactly how to make things better - holding me close to his chest and stroking my hair.

I relax in his arms, all thoughts of bitch troll slipping out of my mind. I really shouldn't make such a big deal out of this - I'll just pretend that I never received anything.

"So, are you ready to see the house?"

"There's only one room I really want to see." I lift my head and find his eyes. His smirk coming back; my favourite smirk.

"Well come on, I've waited a lifetime for you to see the nursery."

"Hold on -" I lift my arms from his waist and rest them on his shoulders. "A lifetime?"

"Well, a few weeks. I've come over a few times since we met with Gia and discussed what you'd like. I've helped put everything into order." He beams a grin to me, proud with himself.

"Well, now I'm desperate to see it!"

Leaving Carrick and Elliot to their discussions, Christian leads me out of the bedroom and to the room just down the hall from us. The first door next to ours, just how I wanted it - Blip close to us.

Christian opens the door and steps in first, pulling me in behind him.

_Oh my God_. It's perfect.

The soft white carpet beneath my feet springs as I step along it, bouncing back to life under my weight. The walls are how I imagined and wanted: the palest blues delicately off setting one another and white clouds feathered around them, making it look as if the walls are made of glass and showing off the sky outside. The white window pane gleams, draped in cream luxurious curtains, the light beaming into the room. His room.

I'm drawn to the crib, lying beneath the sloping ceiling. Its perfect white finish shining, with the side lowered and a baby blanket hanging from it. I step over to it and run my fingers along it, its soft fabric heaven beneath my touch. The crib is made up, all the bedding in place - all in the purest white, crisp and ready for Blip. Above the crib hangs two fabric white doves from the ceiling - as if they are flying. In the corner of the crib sits a range of teddy bears and cuddly toys; I reach across and bring the smallest one to me. It's a brown bear with a white ribbon wrapped around his neck. I clutch him to my chest, wishing Blip was here already.

"I thought they'd take pride of place until he comes. It seems weird having an empty crib." Christian rests his head on my shoulder, watching me and as I cling to the bear.

"It's beautiful."

"Look over here." He turns me over to the opposite wall.

The changing table matching the crib sits along the wall, next to a floor to ceiling shelving unit. Picture frames adorn them; pictures of all of us - my parents, Christian's family and several of us together: our wedding pictures and a few from our honeymoon. Pride of place in the centre is the sonogram of Blip. Other trinkets sit on the shelves - more cuddly toys! Clearly there were too many for the antique toy box in the corner to house. Our baby already has so much stuff and he isn't even here yet!

The closet is open and I peek my head around the door; it's full of cream and white clothes, all neatly folded.

A cushioned nursing glider sits beside the window, next to a small end table. I smile thinking of sitting here in the chair, nursing Blip and staring out of the window to the meadow, watching him fall asleep in my arms.

"Do you like it?"

"Christian, it's perfect. Everything I wanted and more." A stray tear falls from my eye and I swipe it away quickly. I grin at Christian warning him that these are just happy tears, not another pregnancy mood swing. He comes up behind me and wraps me into his chest. I glance down at the chair once more, imagining myself sitting there, but for the time being a white rabbit sits in my place.

The white rabbit with the yellow ribbon wrapped around his neck. _How?_

"I hope you don't mind. Gail brought the basket up here and I opened it, there wasn't a card from it though."

"I know. I took the card out." I whisper back at him, praying to God that he doesn't ask who. _Please, don't ask._

"Who sent you the basket? Whoever it was has fine taste, Perrier-Jouet doesn't exactly come cheap at $7,000 a bottle."

"$7,000?" My mouth falls open, almost hitting my protruding stomach as it makes its way to the floor.

"Last time I checked. It's a fairly decent make, not as excellent as the Bollinger, though I like that for other reasons." He nuzzles his face into the side of my neck, smelling my hair.

"I've never heard of Perrier-Jouet. We've never had it have we?"

"No, not my usual taste. I only know one person who drinks -"

He stills behind me, holding his breath.


	24. Chapter 24

**Disclaimer: The characters portrayed in this story are those in E L James's Fifty Shades Trilogy, therefore they remain her property. The plot and themes in this story are those of the author. The author is in no way affiliated with James. No copyright infringement intended.**

**The next chapter will be posted soon! I won't keep you waiting long! **

**Another long one for you!**

**Hope you enjoy!**

**Much love :) x**

* * *

"Christian, please!" I shout after him, watching him sprint out of the nursery slamming the door behind him.

I follow him in a desperate attempt to stop him. To stop him rushing into anything and doing something stupid. I felt the anger build up in him until he dropped his arms and evacuated the room at lightning speed.

Reaching the hall I see him barge past Kate on the stairs, almost knocking in to her - luckily Elliot was at her side to keep her steady, otherwise God knows what could have happened. He just continues past her, unphased.

"Bro, what the fuck?!" Elliot bawls at him, starting to chase him down the stairs.

"Fuck off Elliot!" He shouts back, jumping the last few steps on to the wooden floors.

"Christian!" I attempt to shout him back one last time, unable to keep up with him. "Elliot, please go stop him!" I turn to him, begging. Thankfully he continues, running in the direction Christian took off in.

"Ana, whats wrong?" Grace steps behind me on the staircase, resting her hands on my shoulders.

"I -" I stutter, my mouth dry and numb.

The curtains begin to close around me, losing control of my limbs. Every part of me becomes heavy and numb; my legs turning to Jell-O and my eyes closing. I feel Grace grab me under my arms as I start to fall, collapsing on the stairs. The fresh carpet under me cushions the fall but I hit the step behind me, hard, knocking my back on the step.

"Ana!"

Everything starts to grow darker and I fall deeper.

I can't move. I can't...

* * *

"Mom, I think she's coming around?"

My eyes flicker and start to open, the light above me stinging my eyes as I adjust.

"Ana?"

Mia is crouched down, leaning forward, staring at me. I try to sit up but she lowers me back down.

"No, Ana you have to lie down." She presses gently in a very non-Mia way.

I turn my head and take in the room; I guess this is our bedroom?

"Ana?" Grace whispers, entering the room. I turn my focus to her as she walks around the bed, placing a glass of water on the bedside table then setting down on the edge of the bed. "How are you feeling dear?"

"I don't know. What happened?"

"You fainted. You almost gave us all a heart attack dear! Luckily Kate and I were able to catch you. Collapsing on the stairs is dreadful, you could have been seriously hurt." She reaches across and grasps my hand, pulling it into her grip and rubbing it soothingly.

"I just couldn't... I needed to stop him. Where is he?"

"Elliot followed him, but he took off before he could stop him. What happened between you two?"

I swallow hard, my mouth ridiculously dry. Noticing this, Mia grabs the water and brings it to me. I smile as I take it from her, lifting it to my lips and taking a small sip.

"Elena sent me a gift. Congratulating us on the house and the baby." I catch her face fall at the mention of her name.

"Elena?"

"He stormed out, probably to see her."

"I thought he made a promise to you, _to all of us_, never to speak to her again?" I can see her lips twist with disgust.

"He did, but Grace, he's really pissed. I've only seen him behave that way a few times, and it scares me. I'm scared what he might do." Water starts to fall from my eyes, staining my cheeks as they trickle down on to my neck.

"Ana." Grace wraps her hands around mine, pressing them together. "He'll be fine. He won't do anything stupid. We'll get him home. Carry and Elliot are out looking for him, with Taylor. Kate's been trying to call him for a while, to let him know what happened."

"He's not answering is he?"

She smiles and I know. When Christian sees red there is nothing that can stop him. Usually I can, but this time he bolted before I had the chance. I just want him back.

"Mia?"

"Yeah?" She leans forward once more, settling herself into my eye line. Her short hair pushed behind her ears, her eyes a tad watery and full of anguish.

"Can you get my phone for me?"

She nods and leaps to her feet, prancing elegantly out of the room.

"Ana, I think you should try to rest darling. Have a nap. You had quite a fall. Is your back okay?"

"It aches a little, but I'm fine." I lie to her. My back is killing me, but I don't want to worry her any further.

"We'll need to get you checked out soon, make sure you're okay. Who's your doctor?"

"Dr Greene."

Mia emerges from the hall, bringing my phone to me.

"Thank you." I smile at her, taking it between my shaking hands.

"Come on Mia, let's give her some space. Ana, call us if you need anything. We'll be just downstairs." Grace leans down and kisses me on the forehead.

They leave me in privacy, pulling the door to a close behind them but leaving it slightly ajar. I look down at my phone and open up my emails - there's nothing from him.

* * *

**From: Anastasia Grey**

**Subject: Please come home.**

**Date: 19th November 2011 18:13:56PM**

**To: Christian Grey**

Christian, please come home.

I don't know where you are, or who you are with, but I need you.

Everyone has tried to contact you. If they reach you before you get this, just know that I am okay - it's not as bad as it seems. I promise.

Please do not do anything you will regret. She is not worth this.

Please come home to me.

I love you.

Your Ana

xxx

* * *

I push my phone down on to the bed and try to curl into a ball, failing miserably, my back stopping me. Maybe Grace is right? I really should get checked out. Our new bedding is crisp and fresh, smelling of fabric softener. I miss his smell. I miss our sheets and his side of the bed covered in my favourite smell of Christian and body wash. Which side of the bed will be his? He normally sleeps on the left, nearest to the door, but in this room it's the right which lies closest to the exit. Will he still want to be on the left or will the right be better for him?

I pull the spare pillows to my side, resting against them wishing that I could wrap myself around Christian instead.

Is he with her? What would he do if he saw her? Will he come back drunk? I don't know if I can deal with drunken Christian again.

My head is sore, everything throbbing and every noise from downstairs heightened. I close my eyes, soothing it slightly and find myself succumbing to sleep.

* * *

I stir, twisting under the duvet that's pulled up under my chin. Sitting up the pain in my back is getting worse, moving from an ache to a sharp, piercing jolt in my spine. Thankfully my headache has eased, although it sits behind my eyes and along my nose, similar to how it does when you get the flu.

Everything is quiet up here, just my movements breaking the silence. I need to get downstairs. I need to walk around or something.

"And you need feeding don't you?" I whisper rubbing my bump, building up the energy to swing my legs around to the edge of the bed, gently easing my feet to the floor.

I manage to stumble to my feet, clutching my stomach with one hand as I hoist myself from the bed and into a semi-upright position. My legs are a little achy and heavy from lying down for a while. I glance over to our alarm clock, checking the time - 20:41PM.

Heading out into the landing I can hear muffled voices downstairs. I set off in the direction of them, holding on to the banister of the staircase for dear life. _Grace is right, falling down these would not be pretty! What if something had happened to Blip? _

I take each step carefully, trying not to aggravate my back anymore than it already is and desperate not to fall if I take a turn for the worse. It takes an eternity for me to reach the bottom, but I feel a sense of pride in that I managed to tackle it myself - no matter how much I am suffering right now.

Creeping through the kitchen I head straight for the family room, the voices growing louder as I reach the door.

"Carry, you try calling him again and I'll go and check on Ana."

"How was she the last time you checked?" Carrick's deep tone louder than Grace's soft voice.

"Sleeping like a baby. I just want to make sure she's okay."

"No need." I state, entering the room, trying my best to put a smile on my face and stand up straight. "I'm fine."

"Ana, you shouldn't be up!" Grace pounds towards me, taking me by the arms and easing me over to the couch.

"Honestly Grace, I'm fine. Have you heard anything yet?"

Both her and Carrick exchange looks. I know the answer before they have to say anything.

"Has _anyone_ heard from him?" Worry filling my voice.

"No dear, but I'm sure he will be back soon." Grace settles down next to me, caressing the back of my hand in that 'mother knows best' way.

"Where is everyone?"

"Elliot and Kate are out looking for him. Mia has gone home with Ryan to see if he will turn up there." Carrick looks over to me, trying to stay calm but I can sense the concern in his voice.

"Someone should go back to Escala and check there, just in case."

"Ana, Taylor has been there several times. Christian's not been there since this morning."

"Where the hell is he then?" I sob into my free hand.

We sit there for a while in silence, unable to console one another. Grace holds on to me, trying her best not to burst into tears as I have. Carrick paces the room, settling into the armchair by the window overlooking the front of the house until he becomes irritable, returning to pounding around the floor. Both of them look tired and frustrated.

The big screen is on as background noise, an old episode of Desperate Housewives filling the silence. My stomach starts to growl and I know this is my queue to make my way to the kitchen. Grace eyes me with concern as I stand, but I assure her I am fine and don't need any help.

Rummaging through the new fridge and cupboards I go for something light, nothing that is going to settle or give me heartburn in the early hours of the morning. Grabbing a cereal bowl I fill it with some Granola, adding some yoghurt from the fridge. Everything is neatly stocked, a few meals stored in Tupperware - Gail must have been busy today preparing food for us. I struggle to get into the stool around the counter, having to really use my arms to lift myself up. By the time I'm sat down I barely have the energy or willpower to lift the spoon to my mouth, but I power on thinking of Blip.

Each mouthful makes me feel sick, but I force it down. Thoughts of Christian flood my mind, thinking of where he could be, who he might be with, or worse - if he's alone. I hate the idea of Christian alone; alone with just his thoughts. I'm forced to close my eyes and force the last spoonful in my mouth, heaving as I try to swallow it. Finally done I slide out of the stool and waddle over to the sink, dumping my bowl in it. The last thing I want to do right now is clean up. I head back into the family room to join Carrick and Grace, both of them sat on the couch whispering to one another. Carrick notices me first and alerts Grace.

"Better?"

"A little. Anything?"

"No, not yet." Carrick whispers, his voice breaking slightly. _God Christian, you sure know how to upset people! _

"I think I'm going to go a have a bath, my backs a little sore."

"The warmth should ease it. Do you need a hand dear?" Grace begins to stand up but I raise my hand to her.

"No, I'll be fine." Her face twists with doubt. "If I need any help I'll shout for you." She softens, nodding her head and easing back into the couch.

It takes even longer to climb the stairs than it did to make my way down them. Somehow I think I'll be forced to stay up here for the rest of the night, banished to the top floor of my new home. Alone.

Walking past the nursery I look in for a second, everything perfect and ready for our baby. I close the door quietly, the reminder of before scarring the room for now and tainting my thoughts.

The en-suite of our bedroom is so much bigger than the one at the apartment, the bath in particular. I bet you could fit a whole football team in there! The water runs freely from the taps, heating quickly and filling the bath in no time. All of our toiletries already in place around the tub; several bottles of bath oil lined up next to the body wash and shampoo. I pour a considerable amount of bath oil under the running water, Jasmine quickly filling the room and tingling my nose as I inhale it.

I undress slowly, ditching my jeans and blouse into a heap on the floor. Taking off my bra proves more difficult, having to twist and stretch to unhook it. I let it fall to the floor, holding my arms out in front of me to let it skim off me. I look up into the mirror in front of me. My hair hanging loose around my breasts, limp and messy. My eyes ringed with red and smudged mascara - _I really should invest in waterproof mascara!_ I skim the rest of my body, looking at my swollen stomach; my skin starting to stretch around him. As I turn to get into the tub I catch a glimpse of my back, bright red and full of dark scratches, the edges starting to bruise. _No wonder I'm in so much pain!_

I'm able to lift my legs with ease to step into the bath tub, but lowering myself down is more painful - the stabbing pain pulsating in my spine. I force myself to lie back, allowing the fairly warm water to heat my muscles and soothe the pain. Lying back the pain starts to die away, only aggravated by movement.

"ANA!"

I jolt forward, hearing footsteps pounding through the bedroom.

"Christian?"

He runs into the bathroom, falling to his knees at the side of the tub, grabbing my face. Holding on to me as he steadies his breath.

"Ana!" His grey eyes staring into mine, full of pain and sorrow. "Kate left me a message, she said you were hurt? Baby, are you okay?"

"Christian -"

"What the fuck happened? Tell me now!"

"I fainted and collapsed on the stairs." I lower my head, looking down into the water.

"On the stairs? Fuck!"

"Baby, I just hit my back. It's pretty roughed up, but I'm okay. Sore but fine." I smile trying to reassure him. He moves to his feet, walking around me to look at my back for himself.

"Shit Ana! How can you say you're just sore, you must be in agony!"

"It's just painful, it'll settle down. The heats helping."

"Baby, I shouldn't have left you. This wouldn't have happened if I wasn't such a fucking idiot!"

"Christian." I reach over to grab his hand, bringing it to my lips and kissing it all over. "Baby, this wasn't your fault - it could have happened at any time. I just wish you hadn't up and left me."

"I'm sorry, I just... I wanted to fucking hunt her down."

"Did you?" My voice raised an octave full of worry. _We both know he knows how to rough someone up! _My subconscious leans back in the tub, exfoliating and de-stressing with cucumbers on her eyes.

"No. I just ended up driving around for a while. I got to her place and couldn't do it. I don't want to face her again. I don't want that fucking bitch in my life; in our life."

"You've been driving all this time?"

"No, I went to the boat and sat there. I just needed to clear my head. I should have been here with you, you always take away my stress Ana. I couldn't live without you."

"You won't have to." I cup his hand around my face and kiss it once more. "Can you help me out of the tub?"

"Sure." He stands, taking off his jacket and throwing it on the floor, before reaching down into the tub and lifting me gently, supporting my weight with ease.

He lifts me to my feet, checking that I can stand before jolting across the room to grab a towel.

He stills in front of me, his eyes wide with horror.

"Christian? What's wrong?"

His eyes move down body, the towel slipping from his fingers.

I follow his eye line and look down at the water lapping around my feet. The water tainted with red. Red from the blood trickling down my legs.


	25. Chapter 25

**Disclaimer: The characters portrayed in this story are those in E L James's Fifty Shades Trilogy, therefore they remain her property. The plot and themes in this story are those of the author. The author is in no way affiliated with James. No copyright infringement intended.**

**I hope I haven't left you hanging long!**

**I have much more to come tomorrow! A few of you have remembered the painting - fear not, much more relating this coming up in the next couple of chapters! Along with a little bitch troll!**

**Much love to you all :) **

**Keep those reviews coming in! :) x**

* * *

_Please, God no. This can't be happening._

I stand in the water, the blood slowly trickling down my inner thighs, down the length of my legs and into the bath. Looking over to Christian for help he just stands there, frozen, staring at the blood. I want to scream out to him, I want to scream out to anyone. _Please don't take my baby. Not my Blip_.

"Christian." I whisper to him, every part of me violently shaking.

His eyes fixate on my legs. He doesn't even look as if he's breathing. He's completely motionless.

"CHRISTIAN!" I shout to him, rousing him. His grey eyes bolt upwards meeting mine, wide and scared. "Christian, help me out of the bath and go get Grace."

"I..."

"Christian, you need to get me out." I spit through gritted teeth, going into survival mode and fighting back the part of me that wants to curl up into a ball and beg for mercy.

Finally he moves, rushing to my side and helping me from the bath. He's desperately trying to avoid looking down past my stomach, focusing on my eyes as he holds me. I can see the tears starting to well up in his eyes. I won't be able to cope if he starts, knowing that this will be the straw that breaks my back. _Come on Ana, be strong for Blip. For all of you_.

I watch as Christian leans down and grabs the towel that slipped through his fingers moments before. He gently wraps it around me, remaining silent.

"Christian, you need to go and get your Mom. I'm going to get dressed."

"Dressed?" He stares at me as if I'm speaking a foreign language.

"Christian we're going to have to go to the hospital. I need to get dressed."

As my tongue flickers around 'hospital' his eyes narrow; I can see him shutting down inside, shutting down his emotions. I push him away, in the direction of the door. He soon picks up his feet and runs out, pounding down the stairs shouting for his Mom, the pain evident in his voice.

"Please be safe. I'll do anything for you to be safe." I run my fingers over the towel, through to my stomach.

I know it won't be long before they sprint back up the stairs and find me. _I can't do this. I can't lose you, Blip._ I walk over to the bed and sit on the edge, clutching the towel under my arm. My mind is empty, just concentrating on our baby. Our beautiful baby who's supposed to be safe and healthy - I'm _supposed_ to keep him safe.

"Ana?" I hear Grace running into the room, her breath heavy and fast, only slightly quieter than Christian's.

I turn to face them, watching them as they come into the room. Grace rushes to my side but he stays by the door, hovering there.

"Ana, how much blood have you lost?" I meet her eyes as she kneels in front of me.

"I don't know, it looked a lot but I was in the water."

"Is there much on the towel?" I shift on the bed, moving the towel from under me, looking down at the red stain on perfect white.

"It's not too much, that's promising. Are you in pain?"

"What?"

"Are you having an cramps, stabbing pains in your stomach?"

"No, I can't feel anything." The first tear starting to fall from my eyes.

"It's okay Ana." Graces holds on to my hand that's fisted in my lap. "Christian?" She lifts her head over to the door where he's standing. "Christian dear, go and get the car ready. I'll help Ana get dressed and we'll go to the hospital."

I can't turn around to look at him, seeing him this way is too much for me. I need to keep it together if I have any chance of holding on to Blip. _I'll do anything_.

Grace is my calming force, holding on to my hand as we walk over to the dresser and pull out some sweats and one of Christian's t-shirts. She tried to reassure me after looking at the blood flow, telling me that I shouldn't worry until we get to the hospital, then we can see what is happening. How am I not supposed to worry? I could be losing one of the two most important things in my life.

She helps me down the stairs, meeting Christian at the bottom; Carrick at his side with an arm around his back. I can't bring myself to look at either of them, gripping on to Grace's hand as we walk of the house to the waiting SUV, Taylor standing attentive with the door open for us.

I sit in between Grace and Christian in the car, Carrick and Taylor in the front. Taylor's driving fast, hitting eighty on the interstate in a rush to get us to the hospital. Grace wraps her hands around mine but it's not enough. Christian's hands are limp in his lap. Glancing up at him through my lashes I see his face lowered, dipped to stare at his hands. His empty hands.

* * *

"Okay, Mrs Grey? I'm Doctor Phillips."

I adjust the paper gown around me, watching Dr Phillips flick through some notes on the desk beside the bed. She looks overly tired, bags hanging under her brown eyes, her sleek black hair pulled back into a loose ponytail.

We were rushed straight into one of the side rooms when we arrived, Christian shouting at them that we needed help. The only time he's spoken is to shout at someone. He refuses to speak to me, or even touch me. When I stalked off into the bathroom to change into the gown his eyes barely flickered from his feet. I had some relief, when I changed, to see that I hadn't lost anymore blood, but fear still lingers in the corner.

"Okay, right. I'm just going to run a tracer on your stomach, it's a bit like a sonogram but it'll just be audio. It'll be listening out for any fetal heart beat."

_Any heart beat?_

She opens up the front of my gown, revealing my stomach to place the tracer on me. She presses it around my stomach, the machine making some weird squeaking noises, a faint thudding in the background though I know that's just my heart.

_Please find something._

I look up at her eyes as she continues to press around, prodding my stomach with the machine. Her eyes are dark and narrow, desperate to find anything. But there's nothing to hear. _I've lost him, I know I have_.

My world starts to collapse around me, my lip starting to quiver and the tears falling rapidly down my face.

"Ah, there we go!" Dr Phillips exclaims, a smile beaming across her lips.

I hold my breath and listen intently, the loud thudding bursting out of the machine. A rapid, repetitive thumping of a heart beat.

"Oh my God." I sob, tears of happiness and thanks. _BLIP!_

"Nice, strong heart beat. Everything seems to fine, you've got a strong one in there."

"What about the bleeding?" Christian bolts from his chair over to my side. I hope for a second that he'll wrap his arms around me, or at least take my hand in his, but he keeps them fisted at his side.

"The physical examination came back clear. The bleeding was slow and there were no clots or cramps, that suggests that you probably ruptured some cervical membranes from the fall you sustained. The fact that the bleeding has now stopped is a good sign. Everything looks fine." She smiles at me, looking at Christian briefly. "Mr Grey, I don't see anything for you to worry about."

"You're positive?"

"If you experience any pains or any heavy bleeding you'll need to come back in. You might experience some light bleeding tonight, or tomorrow morning, this is normal. I would suggest you make an appointment with your OB/GYN for a check up."

"I'll book an appointment with Dr Greene as soon as."

"Just remember to take it easy for the next week or so, Mrs Grey. No lifting or walking for long periods of time. Keep hydrated and your iron levels up, and try not to keep your stress levels down." Dr Phillips offers her hand to both of us as she clutches her notes to her chest. She take Christian's first.

"Could stress have played a part?" Christian's voice solemn and cold.

"Considering the nature of the fall I think not, but it'll be a good idea to just relax for a while." She reaches across to me, stretching out her hand.

I grab her hand in both of mine and squeeze hard. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

* * *

"Christian?" I pull the duvet up to my face and flop my arms out over the top.

"Yes?" He replies, still in the bathroom getting ready for bed.

Switching off the light behind him he emerges, his pyjama bottoms hanging from his hips in that way I love, his t-shirt clinging to his chest.

"Ana what is it?" Panic rising in his tone.

"I just want you in here."

He pulls back the duvet from on the other side of the bed, sliding in beside me. I roll on to my side to face him. He reaches out his arm and pulls me into his chest, my head resting on him. This is what I've wanted all night; to be in his arms, just to have any sort of contact with him.

"I'm never leaving you again. No matter what you say I shouldn't have left you today."

"Christian -"

"Ana, no. Listen to me." He takes a deep breath, his chest rising and falling beneath my head and hand, resting across his torso. "If I was here, you wouldn't have come after me, you wouldn't have fainted on the staircase because you wouldn't be freaking out over me running out on you. I fucking caused this."

"Christian this is not your fault. I won't allow you to blame yourself. Elena was the one who caused me to faint. If she hadn't sent that stupid fucking basket to me I wouldn't have stressed out over it. I was just going to throw it out and ignore it, but you found it."

"You shouldn't have to deal with this. I'll sort it out. I promise you." His fingers find their way to my hair, stroking it and massaging my scalp lightly.

"How? You said you don't want anything to do with her?"

"I'll find a way. She won't contact you again. I'll make sure of it." I feel his lips press against the top of my head.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"I'll get a lawyer and a fucking restraining order against her."

I nuzzle into his chest further, kissing him through his t-shirt.

"I love you Christian."

"I love you too. I was praying tonight, that you'd both be okay."

"Me too." I whisper.

"Come on, sleep. You've had a horrible night."

"Please don't leave me." I sob against him, clutching him to me.

"Ana, I'm not going to leave you."

"I just want to wake up and you be here next me. I hate waking up alone."

"You'll never have to wake up alone again. I'll always be here. No matter what. I promise you."


	26. Chapter 26

**Disclaimer: The characters portrayed in this story are those in E L James's Fifty Shades Trilogy, therefore they remain her property. The plot and themes in this story are those of the author. The author is in no way affiliated with James. No copyright infringement intended.**

**I hope you enjoy the chapter! Much, much more coming in the next chapter, I will upload this tomorrow! **

**Much love :) x**

* * *

I wake with a jolt as pain spreads through me. An agonising pain starting in my lower back and reverberating up and down my spine, and down the backs of my legs. The pain is sharp and sudden, waking me from a deep sleep - a deep sleep dreaming of a field, the sun blazing down on my skin and the sweet cries of an infant in the distance.

"Good morning beautiful."

I attempt to stretch out but find it too painful to extend my arms and legs fully. I wince from the pain, closing my eyes as I try to control it. His warm lips find mine; his tongue tracing my lips and parting them to slip into my mouth.

"Morning." I mumble as he pulls away. I open my eyes to check that I'm not dreaming. "You're here."

"Ana, I told you I would be. I know you have reason to, but I don't like it that you doubt me." He huffs with annoyance.

"I'm sorry, it's just... You stayed with me?"

"The whole time -" Christian leans forward and kisses my forehead. "But I am glad you're awake now, I really need a piss."

I giggle as he bounds out of the bed, leaping over to the bathroom. He leaves the door open, though I refuse to look in his direction - I draw the line at either of us watching each other use the bathroom! We all need some privacy, even after everything he has done to my body and what he is going to see when Blip makes his arrival, watching me pee is still a hard limit.

"Christian, you do know that you can get up and use the bathroom? I can live with you leaving me for a few minutes to relieve yourself."

"You said you wanted me with you, I wasn't moving for anybody or anything." He shouts to me, flushing the toilet.

I try to sit up, pushing my hands down into the mattress to lift myself, groaning as I push upwards.

"Ana!" I turn to face him, standing in the doorway with his hands stretched out and his face distorted. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

"Erm, moving?"

"You're not supposed to do anything but rest!"

"Actually, Dr Phillips just said I should take it easy. She said nothing about lying around in bed all day twiddling my thumbs." I roll my eyes at him as he storms over to my side, gently grasping me from under my arms to lift me to sit on the edge of the bed.

"Listen to me, you are not to do anything today. If you need something, tell me." He lowers his face to mine, showing me that he's being serious. "I mean it."

"Okay. Well, right now I'd really like a bath. The water might ease everything."

"One step ahead of you, I was just coming out to get you."

* * *

Easing down into the water, Christian is delicate with me - lowering me slowly and carefully, trying not to touch my back. I caught a glimpse of it in the mirror whilst he was helping to undress me; the redness has disappeared but bruising has replaced it. A dark purple horizontal bruise across the small of my spine, scratches and carpet burn surrounding it. I immediately diverted my attention back to Christian, but his face brings tears to my eyes. He can't look at it; he can't bear to see any marks on my body. My mind flickers back to the handcuffs on our honeymoon, the hickeys he covered me in - although I know I was bothered by this more than he was - and the way I was left after the Hyde incident. Why does he hate to see this? Is it the pain of it? Is it seeing me in pain that does it? Or do they hold some sort of reminder of his past? How that bastard would put out his cigarettes on him? My subconscious rolls her eyes at me, _You really are slow aren't you? _How did I not figure this out before?!

"Can you wash my back for me?"

"Ana, I don't want to hurt you." His voice quiet and somber.

"You won't. I know you won't." I reassure him, lifting his hand from my thigh and bringing it to my lips, planting small kisses on each of his fingers.

"You'll tell me if it's too much?"

I nod my head and reach forward in the tub, pulling away from his chest. The warm water is soothing on my aching muscles and skin, lapping against me as I move.

Christian runs his fingers along my shoulders, rubbing the body wash to my skin. I moan, his touch setting me alive and washing away all the shit from yesterday. His fingers slowly trail their way down my back, past my ribs and gradually reaching the bruising. Both of us tense as he lightly skims it, both of us concerned of what his touch might do.

I try to relax under his touch, to reassure him and make this process easier. I don't want him scared of touching me when I'm like this. _It's not the first time he's seen you battered and bruised!_

Christian brings a sponge to my skin to help wash off the body wash, another way of not having to touch me.

"Okay, I think you're all done now." He snaps quickly, placing the body wash and sponge back on the shelves around the bath.

I still until he wraps himself around me, cradling me in his arms and his head nuzzling into my neck.

"You're so beautiful." Christian whispers into my ear, kissing me in between each word. His delicate, loving words and actions bring me back to him. "Do you want to stay in here a while?"

"No, we'll end up like prunes if we stay in here any longer, and Blip is swirling." I giggle, the butterflies jumping around inside me.

He lowers his hand to my stomach, cupping my moderate bump.

"Still can't feel anything."

"You will do eventually. Some women don't experience any significant movements til they reach the halfway mark." I rest my hand over his; resting over our Blip.

"I just hope I'm there to feel him for the first time."

"You will be. I know you will."

"I don't care whatever it is I'm doing, or if it's 4 o'clock in the morning, I'll be there. For both of you."

* * *

"Ana, Jason told me what happened last night, are you okay?" Gail turns on her heel, moving away from the stove, to watch as Christian settles me into one of the stool in our new kitchen. I'm eager to see the rest of the house, for obvious reasons I didn't get a full tour yesterday.

"I'm fine, just a little sore."

"Is everything okay with the baby?"

"Yeah, the baby's fine. The doctor said it was probably the fall that caused the... you know. I need to make an appointment to see Dr Greene sometime soon." I reply to her. Her face softens when she hears this; I can tell that she must have worried over this. Everyone was pretty worried.

"I'll call her in a bit. See if she can come over today." Christian plants himself on the stool beside me, one arm strewn over the back of mine, his fingers tickling my upper back.

"Christian it's not necessary for her to come over today, we can see her tomorrow."

"Ana, you need to be checked over."

"I know, but as you reminded me, I need rest. Either way we'll have to go to her office to get checked over, you can't expect her to bring all the equipment here!" I exclaim. All I want to do today is rest and get over this nightmare.

"I'll have a hospital wing built into this house if I have to!"

"I know you would, but please, make the appointment for tomorrow."

Nothing else is said on the matter as Gail sets down some lunch in front of us - grilled Chicken and tomato subs. Gail leaves us to enjoy our lunch, heading off down the hall into the family room. Christian's phone starts buzzing loudly on the counter. I turn to face him and roll my eyes, he simply shrugs and lifts it to his ear, cursing under his breath. _Not even a break on a Sunday!_

"Grey. Yes... No it'll need to be done now. I want it in place as soon as possible... An hour? Yes." He shuts down his phone, dropping it on to the counter.

"Important?" I mumble, shifting on my stool to angle my body towards him.

"Lawyer. He's coming over soon to draw up the papers."

"What papers?"

"Restraining order."

_Oh_. Elena.

"It'll be a couple of days before it's in place, her lawyers will need to receive the papers first. It'll be in effect when she has it in her hands."

"Okay."

"In the meantime, we've got visitors." Christian grins at me, excitement spreading through him.

"Visitors?"

"Come."

I raise my eyebrow at him as he jumps from his stool, quickly turning to me and easing me down on to my feet. He takes me by the hand, slipping his fingers in between mine as we walk slowly through the hallway. He stops as we reach the family room, the door closed in front of us.

"Christian -"

"Shh." He whispers, stooping down and kissing my forehead.

He leans forward and opens the door, pushing it open and standing back at my side.

"Ana?" Her voice rings through my ears like a sweet melody.

"Mom?"

"Oh Ana!" She leaps forward, taking me into her hold.

"Mom." I squeeze her tight against me, the first of many tears falling down my face.

"Ana, baby, don't cry."

"I'm just so happy to see you!"

I lift my eyes and see Bob slumped into the armchair by the window. He smiles across to me, lifting his hand greeting me, but he leaves us to embrace.

"Now stop with the tears baby girl." Mom pulls her face away from me, wiping away my tears with the sleeve of her blue cardigan. Her brown hair pulled out of her face into a scrunchie.

"How? Why?"

"Well, we were meant to come over for thanksgiving baby, but Christian called us last night and sent his jet to come get us." Her eyes flicker over to Christian, smiling to him. I didn't realise that he hand was resting on my shoulder until I turned to face him, mouthing a thank you.

"You're welcome." His lips moving freely and elegantly wrapping around his words, the grin still plastered across his face.

"Now, Anastasia. When exactly were you going to tell me?"

"Tell you? Mom it only happened last night! And I'm fine, honestly." I try to reassure her but she raises her eyebrow to me.

"I meant the baby."

* * *

"Mom, please say something."

Christian and Bob left us alone in the family room, the tension clearly too much for them both. Christian offered to show Bob the docks at the rear of the property; he leapt at the chance - anything to get away from the silence.

"Ana, I'm just shocked. You've been married five minutes!"

"I know, this wasn't on the cards at all. It just happened." I clasp her hands in mine, rubbing my fingers over hers, both of our wedding rings clashing with one another.

"I think I know how it works, Ana."

"I meant that, fate intervened. My shot ran out early."

"So, when you were in hospital, after... it happened. You were pregnant?" I stare into her eyes as she slowly comes back to me, after spending the past hour in her own little world mumbling randoms words under her breath.

"Yes. About 5 weeks."

"And you didn't tell me?" A lone tear falls from her eye; she quickly tries to wipe it away with her sleeve but I still notice.

"Mom, it wasn't like that. I didn't want anyone to know, not until we had the all-clear at our first scan. We were meant to come out to Georgia to see you, so I could tell you. But things here got a bit hectic. I'm sorry."

"Ana, don't be sorry. It's just a lot to take in. I'm gonna be a Grandma?"

"You sure are." I grin at her.

"So when will I get to meet this little one?" Mom reaches over and caresses my bump.

"May. The doctor said our due date is around the 20th."

"Ha. If this one is anything like you, baby girl, they'll keep you waiting." She laughs as her fingers run over my stomach. Finally, she's accepting the news and embracing it - genuine happiness across her face. "You were ten days late!"

"God I hope not, maybe he'll be like Christian - perfectly on time for things?"

We laugh and curl up on the couch, Mom telling me stories from her pregnancy - things I had never heard of. I mean, I had heard the stories of her traumatic and long labour, but never about her experience carrying me. I make the most of this time we have together, finding out that Mom and Bob aren't going to be able to stay until thanksgiving as planned, needing to leave tomorrow evening.

Bob joins us, checking that everything is fine and we're not blubbering wrecks heaped on the floor. Christian also enters, joining me on the couch for a moment, until Taylor makes an appearance, telling him that the lawyer has showed up. He excuses himself, kissing me as he leaves to meet the lawyer in his study. I can't help but smile as he saunters out of the room, his jeans hanging perfectly from his hips.

Mrs Jones joins us soon after, telling us that dinner will be ready soon. I jump at the idea, food being my best friend lately. I feel better hearing from Mom that she couldn't stop eating when she was pregnant with me, her favourite food of choice being Peanut Butter and Jelly on Graham crackers.

As we leave the family room heading back into the kitchen I grab my BlackBerry from my purse to email Christian.

* * *

**From: Anastasia Grey**

**Subject: Dinner**

**Date: 20th November 2011 17:29:01PM**

**To: Christian Grey**

Dinner is ready, I hope you don't mind if we start without you?

Are you almost finished in there?

A

xxx

* * *

**From: Christian Grey**

**Subject: Dotting the I's and crossing the T's**

**Date: 20th November 2011 17:30:49PM**

**To: Anastasia Grey**

Of course, start without me.

I won't be much longer. Just going through the fine print.

I love you

C

x

Christian Grey

CEO stuck in a room with the most boring man I have ever met, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

* * *

**From: Anastasia Grey**

**Subject: Be nice!**

**Date: 20th November 2011 17:32:11PM**

**To: Christian Grey**

He's doing his job.

Hurry up and get your ass out here to eat with us.

Love you more.

A

xxx

* * *

I giggle pressing send. I slip my BlackBerry into the front pocket of my sweats and head to join Mom in the kitchen. My back is hurting a little, but my movements are a lot easier and less painful than before. A slight improvement.

Stepping into the kitchen I feel the buzzing of my phone against my thigh. _Damn he can type fast!_ I smile lifting it from my pocket.

"Ana, do you need a hand getting into the chair?" Bob asks.

"If you don't mind."

He stands and helps me settle into my stool, allowing me to support myself against him and the counter.

"Thank you."

"No problem." He mumbles, heading back to his place next to Mom.

Adjusting myself in my chair I open up my emails, grabbing my fork with my free hand and lifting a bite of Mrs Jones's Spaghetti to my mouth.

* * *

**From: Elena Lincoln**

**Subject: Yesterday**

**Date: 20th November 2011 17:35:56PM**

**To: Anastasia Grey**

Anastasia,

I hope you are well?

I intrust that you received my gift yesterday? I heard your news and thought it best to offer a congratulatory gift to you both. A new home and a child on the way. Haven't you both been busy?

I hope that my contact with you has not caused any issues between yourself and Christian? I heard your news and wanted to express my congratulations for you both, nothing more. Although, I would appreciate it if you were able to meet with me for lunch next week? I would love to talk to you in person. It seems we have a lot to discuss.

Send my love to Christian.

Yours,

Elena Lincoln


	27. Chapter 27

**Disclaimer: The characters portrayed in this story are those in E L James's Fifty Shades Trilogy, therefore they remain her property. The plot and themes in this story are those of the author. The author is in no way affiliated with James. No copyright infringement intended.**

**Loving your reviews! And much love to each any every one of you who are reading this story, following it, have favourite it etc. It means so much! Knowing that you are enjoying it means the world! I would have appreciated just 1 person reading story, but this is overwhelming and unexpected!**

**As ever, so much more to come. Things are gonna be picking up a little in the next two chapters - will post these tomorrow! **

**Much love and enjoy :) x**

* * *

"Damn, your housekeeper can sure cook up a good meal!"

"Bob!"

"What, this is good grub Carla! Any chance we can steal her from you Ana?" Bob mumbles through mouthfuls of food.

I turn my head to the side to face them, catching my Mom swiping him with her hand and laughing at him. Part of me reacts to this, on the inside I'm laughing along with them and relishing these moments I have with them, but the outside is stunned, unreactive and paralysed; unable to respond or think of anything with a clear mind.

"Ana, are you okay dear?"

"Huh?" I snap back from my own little world of numbness and confusion.

"Ana? Is everything okay?" Mom drops her fork, settling it on the side of her dish, moving her hand over to mine. I pull mine away, setting my phone down in front of me. I pull my hair out of my face and place it behind my hair, lifting my fork to my mouth and trying to change the subject.

"Yeah, everything's fine. Mrs Jones is great isn't she?"

"Sure is! Might have to kidnap her and take her with us tomorrow!" Mom chuckles, returning back to her meal.

"I think Christian might have something to say about that!"

"I might have something to say about what?"

Wrapping his arm around my back, Christian leans across and kisses my forehead, pushing back the stool beside me and climbing up into it, in front of the fourth dish around the counter.

"Mom and Bob were just saying how much they enjoy Gail's cooking."

"I only hire the best for the two angels in my life." He moves his hand down to my stomach, stroking it and leaving his hand there as he dips his fork down into his dish and starting his dinner. "I do apologise for not arriving on time, I had some urgent business to attend to. I hope you will forgive me?"

"Oh, don't worry about it dear! Ana is always saying how hard you work, but look at you - own company, successful, impeccable manners. What more could I ask for, for my Ana?"

I attempt to smile, her words touching and full of love, but I fail. I lower my head to my dish, scooping some more food and shoving it into my mouth.

"Ana?" Christian whispers to me, rubbing my stomach gently.

"Yes?"

"Is something wrong?"

"No." I glance at him through my lashes.

"Yeah Ana, you're awfully quiet!" Mom chimes in, this time meeting my hand with hers.

"I'm fine, just hungry. That's all." I look over to both of them, forcing a closed smile with a mouth of Spaghetti.

"Ah, say no more baby girl. You should never come between a pregnant woman and her food!"

* * *

After an evening of distraction with my family, reminiscing and Mom feeding Christian stories about me which I know he will use against me in the future, I'm happy to be curled up in bed. All evening I kept my mind busy, constantly moving the conversation along and feigning an interest in mediocre small talk - anything to stop me thinking about her. Every time her name stirs through my mind bile rises in my throat.

I stirred clear of yet another trip to the bath tub tonight, deciding to try out our new shower and annoying Christian in the process. He pouted and pulled a Mia, complaining how he prefers a bath - to have me in his arms, so he can lather up my skin and caress me. He soon backed down when I told him I just wanted to shower quickly, using my back as an excuse to jump into bed and sleep.

"Are you feeling any better baby?"

I yawn as he climbs in beside me, into his new side of the bed - the right. Christian wraps his arm around my head, pulling me closer to him. Face to face.

"Yes." I twiddle the hem of his pyjama pants between my fingers, diverting my gaze from him. "How did everything go with the lawyer?"

"Same old shit. A lot of babbling and bullshit. Took the bastard forever to hand over the papers for me to sign. Oh, that reminds me I have a copy in my study for you to sign."

"So that's it? She can't come near us now?"

"She is not allowed to make any form of contact - calls, sending gifts, emails etc. As soon as he lawyer receives the papers, she is out of our lives baby."

"So, when do you think they will get the papers?" I mumble, my eyes flickering briefly to his, like a moth to a flame.

"Wednesday. I wanted them to do it now but our lawyer will need to draw up the details, he'll send it to them on Tuesday, everything will be in place on Wednesday."

"What would happen if she decided to make contact before then?"

"She won't." Christian runs his fingers through the hair at the back of my head, holding my head still as he brings his lips to mine.

"But what if she did? She wouldn't be breaking any legal... things, would she?" I pull back from him, muttering my disjointed words adn trying to hide my secret.

"No, but she'd have to deal with me if she did. I've told you Ana, I will not let my past affect you."

I close my eyes, breathing in deeply.

"Is there something you're not telling me?"

I freeze, my fingers jolting around the drawstring of his pants. "No. Why would you think that?"

"You've been acting weird all evening. Ana, if something's wrong I want to know. Tell me."

"Nothing is wrong. I was just shocked to see my Mom today, it was sweet of you to get her here. Thank you."

"I'll do anything to make you happy Mrs Grey."

"You make me happy." I pull myself forward, cuddling into his chest. "I guess I'm just exhausted, what with yesterday and having Mom and Bob here - it's a lot to take in."

"I know. But there's nothing else bothering you?"

"No. Nothing."

* * *

I'm warm. Too warm to sleep.

I shift underneath the duvet, pushing it away from me trying to find some sort of relief, but it's pointless. Christian's leg is strewn over mine, and his hand stretched out across me, cacooning me. He's fast asleep; his breathing deep and loud in the silence of our bedroom. I find myself watching him as he sleeps, admiring the rise and fall of his chest against me, his lashes fanned out across his cheek and his hair all over the place._ My sleeping beauty_.

Unable to force myself back to sleep I peel Christian off me, sliding out from under him. He stirs and for a moment I thought he was going to wake, until he murmured and rolled on to his back.

Creeping past him I make my way out into the hall, attempting to silently make my way to the kitchen in need of a cold drink -anything to cool me down. I can feel the sweat pouring down my back causing Christian's t-shirt to cling to my skin.

I pass the guest bedroom on the way down, where Mom and Bob are spending the night. I love having her here, and knowing that she's leaving again tomorrow is horrible. I love being able to fold myself into her arms - to have my Mom hold me and tell me that everything is going to be okay. I make a mental note to spend all day with her tomorrow, to find out more about her pregnancy and what she felt - did she have a lot of mood swings? We finally have something that we can discuss openly; something we have in common - being a young Mom.

Reaching the bottom of the staircase I wiggle my toes against the cool wooden floors. Finding my way to the kitchen I have already started to cool down slightly. I grab a glass from the cabinet, hunting through them all until finding the one where the glasses are now kept. I fill the glass with some of my favourite Orange juice from the fridge. I moan as it quenches my thirst; the cold liquid trickling down my throat, freezing the insides of my mouth as it makes its way down.

I feel awake and alert, nowhere near the point of sleepiness. I fell asleep briefly, resting against Christian until finding my way on to my back with his help. Her name kept coming into my mind; her words repeating over and over on loop. _We have a lot to discuss_. What exactly do I have to discuss with her? I have nothing to say to her apart from 'leave us the fuck alone you paedophile, psycho!' The way she writes is cold and calculated; I can't imagine her typing out a rash message and sending it before re-reading it. I can hear her words fleeting through my mind; her voice like nails down a chalk board. The sooner Wednesday comes the better. We can finally get her out of our lives.

I walk around the bottom floor of the house, giving myself a tour of every room and seeing how it shapes up to my ideals. I must admit, Gia has done an amazing job - especially on Blip's room! I couldn't have asked for anything different, it's perfect in every single way. Everything about this house is perfect, though the factor that makes it that little bit extra special is that this is our home. Mine and Christian's. Just us and no one else. No reminders of his past. No imental mages of him fucking any of the fifteen in any of the rooms. My mind is free here.

My BlackBerry buzzes on the kitchen counter, where I left it during dinner. Walking back through the hall I collect it, holding it in my palm as I stumble my way up the staircase, my back still a little sore but so much better than it was.

Entering our bedroom once more I check that he's still asleep before closing the door behind me. He really doesn't have much sleep, so the last thing I want is to wake him. I'm filled with a little joy that he hasn't had any nightmares for a while, especially considering how he tends to have them if I leave him for any period of time. It's like I'm his panacea - the cure for all of his troubles and strifes. I know he is mine. I feel at my safest knowing that he is at my side, experiencing everything with me, guiding me and learning as I do.

Crawling back into bed he shifts beside me, taking a deep breath and holding it. Twisting his head towards me, he remains on his back. I freeze until I hear his breathing regulate. _He's still asleep_. I lie back down next to him, shoving my phone under the duvet, to check my messages without the light disturbing him.

*GREY! FILL ME IN, LIKE NOW! WHAT'S HAPPENING RE: THAT PSYCHO BITCH? HOW ARE YOU? K XO*

Trust Kate to message me at this time of the night, or morning. Why is she even awake at this time? I type out a quick response, careful not to press the keys too hard just in case they wake Christian.

*I'M FINE, BETTER THAN I WAS. CHRISTIAN'S FILING A RESTRAINING ORDER. WHY ARE YOU STILL AWAKE? A X*

*DEADLINES KEEPING ME UP. TYPICAL. WHY ARE YOU AWAKE? K XO*

*I THOUGHT IT WAS ELLIOT THAT USUALLY KEEPS YOU AWAKE? ;) A LOT ON MY MIND. CAN'T SLEEP. A X*

*ELLIOT CRASHED AN HOUR AGO. HOW IS THE BABY? K XO*

*BLIP'S FINE. NICE, STRONG HEARTBEAT. GOING FOR A CHECK UP TOMORROW. WILL LET YOU KNOW WHAT THE DOCTOR SAYS. GOING TO SLEEP NOW, BEFORE I WAKE MY HUSBAND. A X*

I close down my messages, pushing the phone under the duvet, feeling Christian stir beside me. He moves onto his side, facing me. I instinctively turn to show my back to him, pulling my phone out once more and shielding the light with my body.

I can't get her out of my mind. Why does she do this to me?

Before I know it I've opened up her email, re-reading it again. How am I supposed to ignore that? Is this why she's contacting me? To get a rise out of me? Or to cause a rift between us? Or both?

I can't leave it like this. I start typing out a message to her, slowly - thinking of every word as I type it.

* * *

**From: Anastasia Grey**

**Subject: RE: Your last correspondence**

**Date: 21st November 2011 04:38:11AM**

**To: Elena Lincoln**

Ms Lincoln,

I am writing to express my wishes to you one last time, in hope that you will read them, acknowledge them, and adhere to them.

Both my husband and I have requested that you leave us alone on many different occasions. You have failed to do this every time.

Neither of us want to see you, hear from you, or know anything further about you. We would appreciate it if you would stop trying to contact either of us, or my mother-in-law for that matter.

Consequently, I am declining your offer for a meeting. I cannot think of any reason as to why I would want or need to meet with you. I have nothing to discuss with you. I cannot think of anything that we could possibly have to discuss with one another.

Please do not contact either of us again. We do not want any sort of contact with you, directly or indirectly.

Yours,

Mrs Anastasia Grey

* * *

Feeling somewhat proud of myself, in being able to refrain from using any curse words, I shut my phone down and place it on the bedside table, next to my picture of Blip in its new silver frame.

Curling into a ball I feel his arms wrap around me, pulling me back into his chest. His front to my back. His hand find mine on my stomach and clasps it - pushing his fingers in between mine.

I breathe a sigh of relief, feeling better. I can feel sleep making an appearance, slowly pulling me into my dreams.

"I love you."


	28. Chapter 28

**Disclaimer: The characters portrayed in this story are those in E L James's Fifty Shades Trilogy, therefore they remain her property. The plot and themes in this story are those of the author. The author is in no way affiliated with James. No copyright infringement intended.**

**In the process of writing the next chapter, will be posting shortly!**

**Enjoy!**

**Much love :) x**

* * *

_Anastasia._

"No, leave me alone." I thrash around, trying to get the hands from me but they tighten their grip, holding me down.

_Ana._

"Get off me!" I buck my legs, feeling weight on them. "Get off!"

I scream out, my throat burning and lungs exhausted.

"Christ Ana, wake up!"

Jolting upright and gasping for air I try to fathom my surroundings. _What the fuck just happened?_

"Baby, it was just a dream." Christian pulls my face towards him. He's sat up in bed, pushed over to the edge and fully dressed in his suit trousers and shirt. "It was just a dream."

Panting heavily I lower my head into my hands, rubbing my eyes.

"Ana, are you okay?"

"Yeah, just a bad dream." Mumbling through my hands I fight back the urge to just come out with the truth. _I want to tell you, but I know this is just going to blow up again. I can't deal with this again. _

"Baby, I know something's wrong. Just tell me."

"It's nothing."

"Stop lying to me Ana." I lift my head slowly out of my hands and turn to face him once more.

"I'm not lying, and that fact that you're calling me a liar makes me feel about this small." I gesture to him, closing the gap between my forefinger and thumb to that of a penny.

"Ana -"

"No Christian. I've told you over and over again, I am fine. There is nothing to tell you, I have dealt with it. End of."

I find myself scowling at him. His lips press into a hardline across his face and he diverts his attention from me.

"I didn't intend on calling you a liar. I just wish you'd open up and let me in."

"I don't see the point in stressing you out with something that I have dealt with on my own, and if I know it's something that you're going to fly off the handle with and go all King Kong, beating your chest and snapping at everyone."

"I'd prefer it if we didn't have any secrets Ana." He looks up at me again, his grey eyes wide and sad.

"Ditto." I shuffle down the bed, making my way to my feet. "I'm going for a shower."

"I'll be downstairs."

As I walk into the bathroom, lifting his t-shirt from my head and pushing my sweats to the ground I look over to him, watching him heave himself from the bed and shuffle out of the door, fisting his fingers through his hair.

_Way to go Ana! Great start to the day!_

I stand under the shower head, allowing the warm water to cascade over me, thinking about last night and this morning. Christian's right - we shouldn't have any secrets, but how can I just come out with this? He said he'd sort it out if she made contact again; what exactly does that mean? The idea of him having to see her and speak to her is more sickening than me having to keep this from him. I don't want him anywhere near her.

I decide to throw on one of my new dresses from Neiman's - a plum, empire lined, knee-length dress - with some dark stockings underneath to shield my legs from the growing chill in the air. I let my hair hang loose today, allowing it to fall down over my breasts, covering the slight cleavage I have on show from the low neck line. I keep my makeup minimal, just throwing on a little mascara and lip balm.

Heading down into the kitchen I find Mom and Bob sitting around the counter devouring their lunch; I hadn't realised it was already 1 o'clock until I caught the alarm clock in our bedroom on my way out. I walk around to them, kissing my Mom on the cheek as I wrap my arms around her back.

"Glad to see you're awake now. Christian said you had a bad dream?" Mom turns to face me, her eyes lighting up with worry.

"Yeah, it was nothing." I smile, loosening my hold of her and walking over to the fridge to grab a drink.

"I remember when I was pregnant with you, I had no end of bad dreams! Your poor father had no sleep for months!"

Smiling, I take out the Orange juice from the shelf, pouring some into a glass from the cabinet next to me.

"Speaking of which, do you know where Christian is?"

"I think he said something about going into his study to make some calls? He looked pretty out of it, is he okay?"

"Just a lot on his mind. I'm just going to go and check on him, when we can do whatever you want today." I grin over to them both, making my way past them and heading in the direction of Christian's study. After my little self-examination of the house earlier this morning I found that Christian's study is on the other end of the hall, overlooking the sound.

As I approach the door I hear him talking into his phone, something about business plans and contracts. I don't bother to knock the door, instead just turning the knob and entering off my own accord. The room looks a lot better in the light of day. Everything in here mimics his office at Grey House - black and white, very clinical and sterile. The only significant details in the room is the dark mahogany desk in the middle of the room, and the various photographs lined up on the wall adjacent to it. He's sat down in his chair, the receiver pulled up to his ear. I close the door behind me, feeling out-of-place.

As I walk over to him slowly he looks up at me, his eyes narrow and pissed off. _Shit. _

When I reach him I settle my glass down on his desk, next to a file with our names on it. He stalks me with his eyes but remains fixed to his conversation. I turn him in his chair, towards me, and climb up into his lap - throwing my legs over his and wrapping my arms around him. His free arm hangs low past the arm of the chair.

"No... Tell them I want it signed today... Make them. I don't have time to wait around for them to pull their fucking finger out. Get Ros to press for it... No, I'm taking the day off. Family priorities... No, no calls today." His voice vibrates through his chest, tickling my ear as I lay my head against him.

In one swift movement he ends the call and throws the receiver back on to his desk. I watch it as it bounces, confused of how he didn't break it into several pieces with the force of his throw.

"Ana -"

"I'm sorry."

"Baby, don't be." Christian cradles me in his arms, rubbing his fingers against my bare arms.

"We shouldn't have secrets."

"Ana, is it something life-threatening?"

"No."

"Something serious?"

"Not exactly." I huff, squeezing my arms around him.

"Why won't you tell me then?

"I don't want another argument or a reenactment of Saturday." I lift my head to his, looking into his eyes.

"Ana, what do you mean? Is this about Elena?"

I don't move, closing my eyes and taking a few breaths before nodding.

"What the fuck has she done now?"

"She contacted me last night."

"Fucking bitch!" One of his hands leaves me and finds its way to his hair, pushing it back out of his face.

"Christian, I've dealt with it."

"How? What did she do?"

"She sent me an email, saying that she wanted to meet with me - that we have _'a lot to discuss'_. I ignored it at first then messaged her back. I told her we want nothing more to do with her. You can read the email if you want?"

"Oh, baby, I don't need to. Why didn't you just tell me?"

"I didn't want you to go all postal and piss off again. Not after what happened on Saturday, and with my Mom here -"

His hand moves back to me, cupping the nape of my neck and holding me as he brings his lips to mine.

"Thank you."

"What for?" My voice hitching at the end.

"For opening up to me."

"What are you going to do?" I pause, finding the right words. "About her?"

"Nothing. I'll call the lawyer and send him a copy of her message. They can deal with it."

"So you're not going to find her and shout at her until you're blue in the face?"

"No." He laughs, throwing his head back slightly. "As much as I want to, I won't. It's a legal matter now, I don't need to speak to her."

Christian leans forward once more, slipping his tongue into my mouth and pulling me closer to his chest, my bump pressing into him.

"You're getting bigger."

"I could say the same for you." I giggle, feeling his erection pressing against my thigh.

"Ah, what I wouldn't do to throw you on the desk and fuck you right now."

"Fuck me then." I pant, rubbing myself against him and possessing his mouth once more.

"Ana, I would. Gladly! But not when my mother-in-law is just down the hall."

"Be quick then." I kiss him all around his mouth, moving to his cheek and ear. The slight stubble on his face tickling my lips.

"Baby, how would we explain the screaming? We both know I can make you scream!"

"Hm... I love you."

"I love you too. Now, let's go and spend the rest of the afternoon with your mother and Bob. We have our appointment with Dr Greene at five."

I stand, sliding out of Christian's lap, and smooth down my dress.

"Five? What time are they leaving?"

"Four. We'll just have enough time to go straight from the airport to the hospital. I'll be much happier once you've been checked over thoroughly."

* * *

"Oh Ana, don't cry. We'll be back for the holidays, and you can always come and stay with us before this little one gets too big!"

I can't stop the tears falling from my eyes. Saying goodbye to my Mom has always been awful - normally she's the one blubbering like a baby, but this time I'm the emotional wreck. I cling to her oversized multicoloured sweatshirt, not ready to let her go again.

"Come on Carla, we better get going." Bob places his hand on her shoulder, prizing us apart. "Christian, thank you for having us." He reaches out his hand, offering it to Christian. He accepts it with a smile.

"Absolutely. You are both welcome anytime." I feel his arm stretch around my back, resting his hand on my hip. "Ana, we've got to go."

"Bye Mom!" I squeeze her once more, the tears falling fast.

"You take care baby girl! Christian -" Letting of me she makes a grab for Christian, throwing her arms around his waist. I check his face, concerned of how he might react to her touch but he's unphased, smiling even. "Take good care of my baby girl and grandchild!"

"Always. Have a safe flight."

I move close to Christian as they walk over to the jet, climbing the staircase and waving back to us once last time. they disappear into the Grey Enterprises jet and I cling to Christian. He wraps his arm around me and walks me over to the car waiting on the tarmac beside us. We climb back into the SUV, Taylor waiting for us patiently.

I settle in beside Christian, putting on my seatbelt and staring down at my stomach, running my fingers over my bump.

"Are you okay baby?"

I nod over to him, trying to regain composure. I duck my head, wiping my nose with the back of my hand.

"Mrs Grey?"

I look up to glance at Taylor in the driver's seat. He reaches back to me, holding out a handkerchief.

"Thank you." I smile at him and his kind gesture, taking it and wiping my eyes and nose. He smiles back at me through the rear view mirror then returning his eyes to the road.

We arrive at the hospital promptly and on time, much to my amazement, considering the rush hour traffic. The receptionist shows us directly to Dr Greene's office, where a nurse waits for us. She's young, mid-twenties, with peroxide blonde hair. She's stunned as Christian enters - yet another woman falling at his feet! _Be grateful she's blonde!_ I roll my eyes, dumping my purse on the chair and taking the gown from the bed.

"Dr Greene will be with you in a moment." She stutters, then makes her way from the room reluctantly.

I change in the bathroom, cloaking my body with the gown and head back into the office. Christian helps me on to the bed, kissing me as he lowers me.

"Everything's going to be fine." I reassure him.

"I think that's my line." Dr Greene smiles, stepping into the room and placing her notes down on the desk beside us. "Now Ana, I heard about your accident the other night. I'm sorry I wasn't available, I was in surgery."

"It's fine." I smile to her, crossing my arms around my stomach.

"Okay, now everything came back clear. Any further bleeding or pains?"

"No, just a little pain in my back, but that's better."

"Good. Now then, I'll do a quick physical and check that everything is good down there and then we can discuss everything."

I settle my legs up into the stirrups and reach out for Christian's hand, squeezing it when places his fingers between mine. I try to breathe through the examination, feeling uncomfortable from her probing and that she's staring at my crotch! I suppose I should get used to it, preparation for when I'm trying to push Blip out of my area?

"Okay Ana, all done now." She pulls away from me, tapping my legs to show that I can lower them and cover myself. "Everything is just fine. There is nothing to worry about."

"You're sure?" Christian mutters from his chair, leaning forward.

"Absolutely. We've already checked the baby's heartbeat and that came back healthy, there's been no further bleeding or pains. There's nothing to be concerned about." She smiles at him and I feel his fingers relax between mine.

"Thank you."

"It's all part of the service. Now, we do have to discuss what happened. Ana, you'll need to be more careful, keeping your iron levels up and reducing any stress. Make sure you're taking your vitamins and keeping your fluid levels up as well. Apart from that, I'll see you in a few weeks for your next scan."

"What about work?" I interrupt as she walks towards the door, clearly in a rush to see other patients.

"You should be fine to return to work. Obviously no heavy lifting, but you work in publishing so there's little of that to worry about. I would suggest cutting the hours down a little, just until that bruising has died down completely."

I breathe a sigh of relief - at least Christian heard her say this!

"You're not going to work!"

"I am! I need to go in tomorrow - I have applicants to interview." I grin at him, sitting up and hopping down off the bed.

"What applicants?"

"We're hiring a new illustrator - Joanne is leaving to have her baby, and she's decided not to return to work."

"Oh, okay. Well, let's get you home so we can pick up where we left off earlier." He winks at me as I shuffle past him, to change in the bathroom.

"Always so keen to get me naked Mr Grey!"

"I'd have you naked and tied to my bed everyday if I had my wish."

"Only if you use that silver tie, _Sir_."


	29. Chapter 29

**Disclaimer: The characters portrayed in this story are those in E L James's Fifty Shades Trilogy, therefore they remain her property. The plot and themes in this story are those of the author. The author is in no way affiliated with James. No copyright infringement intended.**

**More on its way tomorrow guys!**

**Much love :) x**

* * *

"Just take it easy today. Please."

I grab his hand and raise to it my lips, undoing my seatbelt to climb out. "I will. Is Sawyer already here?"

"Yes. He's got the car with him, ready to drive you home after work. I've got a late meeting tonight." Christian shrugs at me.

"Okay, what time do you think you'll be back?"

"I don't know, late. I'll contact you later."

I reach across to him, manoeuvering around the gear stick to kiss him.

"Laters baby!" I giggle, sliding out of the R8 and heading off into the reception of Grey Publishing.

Every time I walk through the building a thousand people stop in my presence, smiling and wishing me a good day. I know that they do this only because I'm married to the boss, but it still brings a smile to my face. Being polite costs you nothing!

"Mrs Grey -" Danielle shouts after me, jumping into the elevator beside me. Lately she's been doing everything she can to prove herself to me, part of me wants to just forget what happened - accept it and move on - but the Grey in me can't let that happen. She fucked up, it's going to take a lot to rectify that.

"Danielle?"

"I have the list of applicants for you, the first one is scheduled for one." She hands me a piece of paper full of names. I was surprised to see so many people had applied for the role here, considering it was only officially advertised last week. Christian had to remind me that having Grey on your resumé is like discovering the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. It appears his last name is the key to so many doors in this world! _My last name_.

"Thank you. Is there anything else?"

"Erm, a package arrived for you this morning. I brought it straight up to your office."

"Danielle, I have an assistant to do that for me. You don't need to do that."

"I know, I wanted to." She smiles at me, adjusting her hair and tugging her waistcoat into place.

"I appreciate it. Can you please call Mark and ask him if he's free to interview with me, if not I'll just do it on my own."

"Of course."

I nod to her, thanking God that the elevator has now arrived at my floor.

Making a quick exit I head straight into my office, accepting Hannah's offer for a cup of tea on my way past her. Setting down into my chair I power up my computer, getting ready for the busy day ahead. I instinctively check my emails first and I am thrilled to see nothing else from bitch troll. Just one more day and she's out of our lives!

Flashing at the top of the screen is a new message.

* * *

**From: Christian Grey**

**Subject: Tonight**

**Date: 22nd November 2011 09:03:35AM**

**To: Anastasia Grey**

My meeting tonight will run til around 9. I should be home for ten, but of course this might change.

I know that you will roll your eyes at this, so please remember that I am only saying this because I love you - and I will take you over my knee if necessary - but please take it easy today. No stress, no shouting or going crazy. If it becomes too much, leave and head home. I mean it. It's not good for either of you.

I look forward to seeing you tonight.

I love you both.

C

x

Christian Grey

Ready to take mischievous wife over my knee for eye rolling offences, CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

* * *

**From: Anastasia Grey**

**Subject: Looks like...**

**Date: 22nd November 2011 09:04:56AM**

**To: Christian Grey**

... I'll be requiring a spanking this evening Sir.

I will take it easy - I'll be spending most of the day on my backside questioning people about why they want to work for a tyrant like you.

I love you more.

Ana

xxx

P.S. Blips sends his love and asks for his Daddy to remember that Mommy is a strong woman and doesn't need him worrying about her.

Anastasia Grey

Personal messenger for Baby Grey & Editor, Grey Publishing Ltd.

* * *

**From: Christian Grey**

**Subject: RE: Blip's response**

**Date: 22nd November 2011 09:06:49AM**

**To: Anastasia Grey**

Please could you pass on my love to Blip and remind him that he is one of the reasons why I worry about Mommy so much. I will never stop worrying about either of you. You are my life.

My palm is already twitching Mrs Grey.

Tyrant? I can show you tyrant. Your behind is mine.

Laters Baby

C

x

Christian Grey

CEO with twitching palm and one massive hard on, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

* * *

Grinning, I close my emails. _Christian and his twitching palm!_ I start to tingle just thinking about him. If someone had told me a year ago that I would enjoy being spanked while a kinky fucker like him shoves silver balls into me, I would have slapped them down and suggest they need medical help! Meeting Christian sure has opened my eyes to a lot of things. He is the sole reason for my happiness, bar our baby.

My intercom starts to bleep, interrupting my thoughts of Christian punishing me. I reach across and answer it, hearing Danielle bursting to life on the other end.

"Mrs Grey, I have called Mark and he said he can't make the interviews today. He said to pass on his apologies. Would you like anyone else to sit in with you?"

"No, I'll just interview them on my own. It's fine. Thank you." I switch off the call and sit back in my chair.

_It's fine, you can do this_. I repeat this mantra to myself over and over, trying to believe it. I've interviewed many people before, when I needed to hire someone to fulfill my duties while I was on break, but I had Mark there with me. Someone else to share the questioning with; someone who knew what they were doing.

"Now would be a great time for you to start turning Mommy into Daddy! I could use some of him right now, in more ways than one!" I whisper down to Blip, resting one hand against him.

Leaning back in my chair I start to plan questions in my mind - things I need to ask them, should ask them and things I should avoid at all costs. I let my eyes fleet around my office, tracing the window and book shelves opposite me, the piles of papers dotted around my desk, my photograph of Christian and I, and lastly to the square package on the chair in front of me.

Standing up from my chair I walk around the desk, to examine the package closer. It's quite small. I lift it and check its weight - light. Taking it back to my seat I notice a small white card attached to it, handwritten.

_Mrs Grey,_

_Best Wishes_

"What? No name?" I whisper, turning the card around between my fingers. "Who sends a gift with no name attached to it?"

I place the package down on my desk, shuffling my chair closer. It's wrapped in brown paper, with string around the middle. It's thin, only a couple of inches wide. I feel through the paper and try to second guess what it is before unwrapping it. Canvas?

Taking one finger under the string I pull the package apart; the paper opening immediately. I tear the paper from it, revealing a small canvas underneath. I flip the package over, so the front is facing me.

_A painting?_

In my hands lays a small oil painting. A delicate and intricate picture of a coastline - a yacht in the background settled on the waves. The colours are beautiful - the sunset a mix of peach, rose and lilac; the water a calm contrast of light blue and creams reflecting the light. It oozes tranquility and peace, the yacht still and in the distance reminding me of our honeymoon and yacht in the South of France. It's beautiful. I check the piece all over for any signature or identity of the artist but there is nothing. No clue as to who has sent this to me. I admire the piece in my hands, taking in its beauty once more. I have seen work like this before - the subtle grace of the painting, as if it comes second nature to whoever painted it.

Something goes off inside me, like a lightning bolt, causing me to drop the painting on the desk. I close my eyes and think back to the picture I saw in Christian's office - it's similar: the simple theme, the easy, free-flowing penmanship. The only things that are different are the colours. The same artist?

My stomach drops, thinking of how he refused to tell me who it was from. How he avoided it - brushing over it or taking a phone call hoping I'd just forget about it.

Shoving the painting aside, confused and annoyed, I open up my emails once more. Should I tell him? I start to type out my message to him, but erase it all and starting over. I can't just come out with it; he'll steer clear of it again.

A fleeting thought passes through my mind, maybe Christian had it sent over? Its a long shot but a possibility. It could just be a coincidence - I'm sure there are many artists who have similar styles.

* * *

**From: Anastasia Grey**

**Subject: Did you...**

**Date: 22nd November 2011 10:14:55AM**

**To: Christian Grey**

... send me anything this morning?

A

x

Anastasia Grey

Confused Editor, Grey Publishing Ltd.

* * *

**From: Christian Grey**

**Subject: Did you...**

**Date: 22nd November 2011 10:15:53AM**

**To: Anastasia Grey**

No. I haven't sent you anything. Why?

C

x

Christian Grey

Equally confused CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

* * *

**From: Anastasia Grey**

**Subject: Never mind**

**Date: 22nd November 2011 10:17:02AM**

**To: Christian Grey**

I just received something and there was no name attached, was just wondering if it was from you.

Never mind.

See you tonight.

Ana

x

Anastasia Grey

Editor, Grey Publishing Ltd.

* * *

I allow my mind to run away with me, thinking of anything that Christian could have said or given away when I confronted him weeks ago about the one in his office. _There's nothing! He said nothing!_ My subconscious screams at me.

I'm interrupted from my thoughts by my phone bleeping in front of me. I pull it up from my desk and bring it straight to my ear.

"Ana?" Hannah's voice bursting through the speaker.

"Yes?"

"You have a guest in conference room 2."

"I thought the first interview was scheduled for one?"

"Erm, it is. I guess they must have been eager to see you? Claire just sent them straight up." Her voice queries, mimicking my confusion.

"Okay, I'm on my way now. Oh, Hannah?"

"Yes?"

"I had a package delivered this morning, do you know anything about it?"

"Yeah, Claire called up to say a young man delivered it first thing. I was going to collect it when Danielle jumped first. Is there a problem?" She replies to me.

"No, no problem." I hang up, putting the phone back on to the desk and rising from my chair.

Smoothing down my dress and pushing a loose strand of hair behind my ear I try to compose myself. _You can do this. They're probably just as nervous as you. _I glance down at the painting one last time, dismissing it and heading out of the door.

* * *

Conference room two is the smallest room we have, why would we hold the interviews in here?

I question the decision of whomever decided to send the first applicant up here, but thank their choice for getting a room on the same floor as my office. Although pregnancy has yet to cause me any great issues with walking or moving, my feet have taken a battering from the new patent heels I thought would be a good idea this morning when I dressed. Little did I know that withing ten minutes of having them on my feet, I would be in extruitating pain! Maybe I should leave shoe shopping to Christian? The ones he chooses never hurt - it's like walking on air when I wear them.

The walk over to the room is short, just down the hall past the restrooms. Reaching the door I take a deep breath and hold the door knob in my hand. _Everything will be okay_. I let the breath out and open the door, facing my fears.

The room is bright, the sun shining in through the window opposite. She's sat at the chair at the far end of the round table in the middle of the room. The light bounces off her hair, almost making it appear white. Her eyes find mine instantly, piercing a hole through me.

"Anastasia." She smiles slyly at me, her tongue flicking my name out of her mouth like a serpent.

I freeze to the floor for a moment, my eyes fixed to hers - impossible to break hold with them.

"Elena."


	30. Chapter 30

**Disclaimer: The characters portrayed in this story are those in E L James's Fifty Shades Trilogy, therefore they remain her property. The plot and themes in this story are those of the author. The author is in no way affiliated with James. No copyright infringement intended.**

**Sorry if there are any errors in this chapter, not feeling at my best so please bear with me! **

**Much love and hope you enjoy :) x**

* * *

"Why the fuck are you here?" I spit out to her, slamming the door behind me. The force rattles the blinds and jolts her glass of water on the table, spilling a small amount.

"Now, Anastasia, is that anyway to talk to a guest?"

"You're not a guest. You're an intruder. Now get the fuck out of my building!"

"_Your building?_ No, this is Christian's. Just because he put a ring on your finger doesn't mean you own this." She raises her hands gesturing around the room. I fist my hands to my side, trying to resist the urge to smash her head off the table.

"Why are you here?"

"I told you, we have a lot to discuss. That being one of them." Elena drops her eyes to my stomach, swollen under my shift dress. "We both know that at some point that is going to be the reason Christian finally comes to his senses and leaves you."

"He'll never leave me. Or our baby. He loves us both."

"Christian doesn't know real love." Her laugh cuts through me, building up the tension deep in my stomach.

"You don't know anything about him, and the fact that you even think that shows it loud and clear."

"I know Christian better than anyone in this world. I know how he thinks, what he likes and doesn't like. I know every inch of his body."

I force down the bile in my throat, throwing my arms around my stomach as she shifts in her chair.

"How does it feel? To know that I taught him everything. Everything that he does to you, was from me."

"Get the fuck out. I am telling you one last time to leave me and my husband alone."

A smirk creeps across her lips, exposing her perfectly white teeth - _just as false as the rest of her!_ She taps her manicured claws on the table.

"If you were my sub you wouldn't be standing right now. I can't imagine Christian allowing you to talk to him like that, not after everything I taught him."

"There's a difference - I'm not a sub. I never have and never will be his submissive. I am his wife, and the mother of his child. Something you will never be."

"Maybe, but what you fail to see is that when he leaves you, which he will, I will be there. He will come back to me. He can't keep away from me."

My breathing starts to build to a rapid pace; my chest rising and falling quick and unsteady. _Keep it together! _

"Oh Anastasia, you know he will. Did you know he came to see me on Saturday?" She slides out of her chair, stalking around the table to me. She stands nose to nose in front of me, towering over me; trying to intimidate me. "He was very angry. Seems my little gift didn't go down very well!"

"It wasn't welcome in our home. We don't want anything from you." I raise my head towards her, standing my ground.

"I am surprised about that, Christian has always appreciated my gifts to him - Champagne, watches, artwork."

_Artwork? _

"Christian appreciates my help. I made him what he is. I taught him everything. How does it feel? Knowing that every time he touches you, I was there first? Everything that he does to your body, I showed him how. How to please you and make you squirm and writhe under him."

"You didn't show him anything. You abused him. You're nothing more than a paedophile. A disgusting excuse for a woman." My voice rises, bellowing up to her.

"I'd watch your tongue if I was you. Christian might allow you to behave this way, but I won't. I also happen to know that there are several other people out there who would jump at the chance of beating the shit out of you." She lifts her hand to my hair, twirling a strand around her finger. I want to smack her away but I'm frozen. "How is Jack Hyde?"

"Get out." I whisper, the anger tearing through me. Bursting and writhing from the inside but paralysed on the out.

"Anastasia." Her tongue flicks my name out and I snap. _Enough_.

I lash out, bringing my hand to her. I strike her hard across the jaw, forcing her back. She gasps, clutching her face as she tries to steady on her feet.

"You will regret that."

"Get the fuck out of this room, or I will personally throw you out of the fucking window. It's your choice." I reach forward opening the door wide.

"This isn't over."

"Yes it is."

Grabbing her bag she exits the room, lifting her head high and holding on to her jaw. I slam the door behind her, secluding myself from the rest of the world.

"What the fuck?" I kick out at the chair in front of me, knocking it on to its side.

I pace the room, trying to fight back my anger. The more I try to hold it back the worse it becomes; my only release are the tears dripping from my eyes. He saw her? He told me he didn't. _He told you she didn't give him the painting! Do you believe that as well?_ My subconscious chimes in, leaning back in her chair with her feet resting on the table.

Over and over in my mind I try to figure him out; is he telling the truth? Or is he hiding things from me? _It wouldn't be the first time!_ I don't know what to believe anymore.

The tears fall thick and fast down my face. I collapse into the chair she just evacuated, pushing my head into my hands and trying to calm myself down. _How the fuck did she get in? _

Sitting back in my chair I wipe away the tears, forcing myself to calm down. I can't stay here. I slide out of my seat and exit the room, my feet taking me as quick as I can in these stupid heels!

Storming over to my office everyone jumps out of my way, sensing that now is not the time to start pestering me. I quickly scoop up some papers and shove them into my purse, and throwing the painting on my desk across the room, bouncing it off the far wall.

"Ana? Is there anything I can get you?" Hannah peeks her head around my door, sheepishly interrupting me.

"No, I'm leaving for the afternoon. Cancel the interviews and reschedule them."

"Of course."

I pass her, walking out of my door and across the lobby. I need to go home. I need to get away from all of this.

The elevator arrives promptly, taking me down to reception. I can see Sawyer ushering to my side as I enter lobby floor; I ignore him and head straight to Claire at the reception desk. She looks up at me, smiling until she notes the cold look on my face.

"Mrs Grey?"

"Who authorised _that_ woman to come up to the conference room?" I calm my voice to a low tone.

"What woman?" She tilts her head down to the desk, looking over the several papers scattered around. "I have no record of anyone coming to the desk."

"Nothing? Nothing at all?"

"Nope, what did she look like?"

"Old, bleached hair, dressed like she's going to a funeral." I spit out, visualising her face in mine.

"Hermes purse?" Her eyes narrow to a squint with her lips pursed.

"I think so, not too sure."

"Well I saw a woman, blonde, about an hour ago? Not sure time wise, but she came straight in, walked over to that elevator and went straight up. She didn't speak to anyone."

"That elevator?" I point over to the lift in the corner of the room, the lift reserved primarily for senior staff.

"Yeah. Why?"

"You have to a security to use that elevator." I smack my hand on the desk. Claire jolts back, shocked by my outburst.

"Is that a problem?" She stutters.

"She doesn't work here."

I charge off to Sawyer, who is waiting by the lobby doors. He stands up straight when he sees me approach him, straightening his jacket.

"Mrs Grey?"

"Home. I want to go home. Now." I whisper to him, sternly, walking through the doors out on to the street, into a haze of people.

* * *

"Ana, I wasn't expecting you home. Would you like something to eat? Drink?" Gail spins around to me, turning her back on the stove - by the smell of it it's lasagna. I startled her by throwing my purse on the counter.

"No, I'm fine thank you. I'm going to go and work in my study." I shuffle out of the room, slipping out of my heels and scooping them up in my hands as I walk over to my study.

Christian and I agreed that the library would become my study - the way it was back at Escala. Mine is much smaller than his, but more comforting - surrounded by my favourite novels and authors: Hardy, Bronte, Austen and Dickens. My small white desk was the only item I brought over from Escala, along with my photographs and books.

I slide into my desk and flip open my Mac, which hasn't been touched since we moved in. I fire up my emails straight away, forcing my eyes away from my desktop background of Christian and me.

* * *

**From: Anastasia Grey**

**Subject: Problem**

**Date: 22nd November 2011 12:29:04PM**

**To: Christian Grey**

Please can you come home? I need to talk to you.

A

x

* * *

I swirl around in my chair waiting for the ping of my emails. As always, he doesn't take long to reply.

* * *

**From: Christian Grey**

**Subject: What's wrong?**

**Date: 22nd November 2011 12:31:56PM**

**To: Anastasia Grey**

What's happened?

I'm in a meeting right now.

C

x

Christian Grey

Worried CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

* * *

**From: Anastasia Grey**

**Subject: Reoccuring Nightmare**

**Date: 22nd November 2011 12:32:50PM**

**To: Christian Grey**

Elena turned up at work. She wanted to 'talk'.

I told her to leave but she kept pushing me, talking about you and Blip. I slapped her before she left. I couldn't hold it back anymore.

She told me some things that we need to discuss. I need to know the truth.

A

x

* * *

**From: Christian Grey**

**Subject: Leaving Now!**

**Date: 22nd November 2011 12:35:02PM**

**To: Anastasia Grey**

I'm coming home. Will be there in twenty.

I've always told you the truth Ana. Don't believe anything that she has said. I thought you would know what she is like by now?

Please put some ice on your hand, I can imagine that it is throbbing right now.

C

x

Christian Grey

Concerned, Worried and Fucking Furious CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

* * *

I let out a deep breath deciding not to reply to him. I dread having to tell him what she has said - if she's telling the truth, I don't know if I can handle him hiding things from me yet again, but if she's lying I know I can't handle Christian and his interrogations and shouting.

I can't handle any of this. I just want to curl up and hide.

I push back from the desk and turn to face the window, looking out to the meadow. The grass swaying in the chill as leaves from the big tree fall to the ground, showing signs of the winter fast approaching us. I find myself dazing, falling in and out of awareness. I didn't even hear Christian come in; only snapping out of it when he jumped in front of my chair, falling to his knees and grasping my hands in his.

"Ana?"

"We need to talk."

His face drops.

"What did she say?"

"That you'll leave me. That Blip will send you over the edge and you'll go back to her. She said you saw her on Saturday. You told me you didn't." I sob, trying to catch my breath.

"I didn't. She's lying. Ana, look at me!" He reaches up and cups my chin with his fingers, forcing me to look him in the eyes. Into his grey, sincere eyes. "I haven't seen her in months."

I nod. I know he's not lying to me. He can't be. He wouldn't be able to look me in the eyes if he was.

"I will never leave you. Either of you. How many times do I have to remind you? She's just a fucking bitter old woman. She's trying to prize us apart."

"I'm scared." I mumble, staring into his eyes with blurred vision.

"Of what?"

"That she will. That she'll be enough to pull us apart."

"She won't. I won't allow her to. I've told you Ana, I would die before I allow anything to happen to you, to us or our baby."

The tears fall from my eyes and I can't stop them. I'm a victim to my own emotions. Christian reaches forward and drags me from the chair, pulling me into his arms as he sits on the floor. I rest my head on his shoulder as he cradles me, rocking me back and forth.

"There's something else." I mumble, wiping my nose with the back of my hand.

"Ana, use my shirt." He whispers, kissing the top of my head as he continues to rock me gently. "What is it?"

"Elena used the staff lift, to come up to my floor and see me. She didn't go to the desk as if she was visitor - she probably knew she'd be kicked out if she did."

"The staff elevator? You need a code to get access to that." I change feel him tightening his grip around me, squeezing his fingers into my arms.

"I know. She also mentioned something. She was pushing me about how, if I was her submissive she would punish me. She said that there are a lot of people who would gladly jump at the opportunity of, and I quote, _'beating the shit'_ out of me."

"I would never allow anyone to touch you. Listen to me Ana, no one will ever touch you!" His voice deepens, growing angry and dominant.

"I know you wouldn't. But after she said that, she asked me how Jack Hyde was." I lower my voice, my stomach twisting as I say his name.

"Fucking bitch!" Christian snaps, shouting and releasing me. He jumps to his feet, pacing the floor. His face cold and emotionless.

"Christian?" I whimper. This side of him scares me the most.

"For fuck sake!" He shouts, slamming his fist into the window, shattering it. The glass falls quickly to the wooden floors, scattering all over the place.

I jolt backwards with fear. He stills in front of me, lowering his head. He turns to face me, his head still low and his eyes looking down to his hand, covered in blood.

"Christian!" I jump to him, grabbing his hand between mine. Unconcerned with my bare feet pressing into the broken glass. His whole hand is covered in blood, though looking closely there are only a few cuts, but they are deep. "Baby, we're gonna get this cleaned up, okay? It's fine."

He lifts his head to look me in the eyes. I notice the tears welling up, the first falling down his flushed cheek.

"I'm sorry Ana. I'm so sorry." He sobs, wrapping his arms around me and pushing my head into his chest.


	31. Chapter 31

**Disclaimer: The characters portrayed in this story are those in E L James's Fifty Shades Trilogy, therefore they remain her property. The plot and themes in this story are those of the author. The author is in no way affiliated with James. No copyright infringement intended.**

**Another chapter for you lovely people! :) Uploading the next chapter later today!**

**Enjoy and much love :) x**

* * *

"Baby, come on." I stretch out my hand to him, creeping on my toes over to the door, trying to avoid the glass to save what's left of my feet.

Christian looks up from his hand, his eyes full of water and his cheeks tear-stained. My heart is ripped from my chest seeing him this way. He looks lost. He looks like a child.

"Christian, it's fine. We'll get it all cleaned up, just come here. Take my hand." I beckon him, stretching my hand out further to him. He remains fixed and unresponsive; I walk over the glass to get to him, wrapping my arm around his waist and walking him across the study to get him cleaned up. The glass crunches under my feet, cutting through and stabbing at my soles but I don't care. My focus is Christian.

Walking through the hall we pass Gail; she turns and instantly notices his hand, and the blood. Her mouth falls open but I hold my hand up to her, to stop her from talking. I smile as I pass her, heading up the staircase, a sympathetic smile. I just need to keep calm for him. Everything needs to stay calm. The glass embedded in my feet pushes in further as we climb the stairs, the pain setting in as I take each step but seeing Christian this way is enough to suppress these thoughts.

I guide him into our bedroom, setting him down on the edge of the bed and rushing into the bathroom to find a first aid kit. Luckily I found it beside our toiletries - a small white box full of band aids, dressings and anti-septic. I open it entering back into the bedroom. His head is dipped again, his hands hanging loose in his lap.

I fall to my knees in front him, pushing his legs further apart so I can place myself between them. Scooping his hand into mine I look over the damage.

"Baby, I'm gonna try to clean this up." I take out some anti-septic from the box, and squeeze it on to a dressing. "It might hurt a little, okay?"

Christian raises his eyes to mine. He doesn't move his head or any part of him.

Taking a deep breath I bring the dressing to his hand, carefully trying not to hurt him. I trace it over his hand, cleaning up the blood and avoiding the cuts. I wince as I make contact with the first cut, on his first knuckle. Worried I look up to him, his face unchanged. He's either too lost to care or he doesn't feel it._ Probably the first._

I try to get it over and done with as soon as possible, uncomfortable with the idea of hurting him. Once the blood is cleared I can see his cuts properly - three deep cuts on his knuckles and plenty of scratches and grazes.

"Christian, I think we'll need to take you to hospital."

"NO!" He bellows down at me. Scared I jolt backwards, falling on to my behind. I drop the dressing in my hand, lowering my head from his gaze.

I back up from him, shuffling along the carpet.

"Ana -" He drops to the floor in front of me, making a grab for my hands pooled in my lap. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have snapped. Baby, I'm so sorry."

"You need to go to hospital."

"No, I don't."

"You might need stitches!" I squeal, looking at his cuts.

"Ana, I've had a lot of cuts in the past. I know when they need stitches or not, and these are fine. They'll heal on their own. Don't worry." He assures me, cupping his non-injured hand under my chin.

"How can you tell me not to worry?"

"Baby, I just lost my temper for a minute. I'm sorry. I'll fix the window."

"This isn't about the fucking window, Christian!" I stagger to my feet, pushing up from the floor and pulling away from him. "I can't cope with this. With any of this." I throw my hands into my hair, pacing the floor.

"What do you mean?" I can feel him standing next to me as I still in front of the window, staring out into the clear sky. "Ana, please don't... Please don't do this."

"Do what?" I turn my head to him, looking up into his eyes.

"Don't give up on us."

"What?!" I struggle to catch my breath, feeling as if I've been punched straight in the centre of my gut. "I'm not. I'm never giving up on us." I throw my arms around him, pushing myself into him. "Why would you think that?"

"You said you can't cope with this."

"I meant everything going on, not us. Never us!" I sob into his chest, squeezing him close to me. "This is supposed to the happiest time in my life - married to a man I love so much that it hurts to be away from you for any length of time; pregnant with our first child; moving into our first home together. I expected there to be drama and stress, but nothing could have prepared me for the amount of shit that is being thrown at us."

"I'm sorry."

"Stop apologising, this isn't your fault."

"Yes it is! If I wasn't here then you wouldn't have to deal with all of this."

I pull out of his arms, pulling his face down to mine and forcing his eyes to meet mine. I need him to look me in the eyes.

"Don't ever say that. I couldn't live with you. We'll deal with this. I know we will."

"I don't want you to have to deal with it. It's my fucked up life causing all of this." I cup his face and bring his lips to mine. Our tear streaked faces clashing with one another, and my swollen lips meeting his.

"I married you knowing what to expect. I'd happily deal with this shit every single day of my life, as long as you're here with me. If you're here, all of this is worth it."

"What did I do to deserve you?"

"I don't know, I just think we both got pretty lucky." I grin at him, pulling his lips to mine once more. "Now. We need to sort your hand out."

"I don't need stitches. I promise. I've had a lot of experience with them in the past, and my Mom is a doctor so I learnt pretty quick." Christian looks down at his hand, checking out the cuts for himself. "These won't even leave a mark. You however -"

He gestures down to my feet and the stains on the floor from my cuts.

"We need to get that checked out. Does it hurt?" Christian falls to his knees, lifting one of my feet to check my sole. I steady myself holding on to his shoulders.

"No, they're fine."

"Come, in the bathroom. I'll clean these up and then we can have a bath."

* * *

Christian reaches out for my hands, allowing me to use him as support to ease myself into the bath tub. He slipped in first, a routine that we've come to be familiar with - he watches me undress, unless he has already helped with this dirty task, and likes to sit back and watch me slide into the water in front of him. This time I sit on the opposite end of the tub, my feet in his hands as he inspects them further.

"You're lucky that you haven't done any serious damage!" He exclaims, massaging the arch of my left foot.

"I'm tougher than I look." I smile, leaning back against the side of the tub. "Hm, this is good."

"Just relax baby."

"Christian?" I flicker my eyes open, looking at him licking his lip as he massages my feet.

"Hm?"

"What are we going to do? About Elena?"

"Nothing. She'll have the restraining order tomorrow. Besides, you dealt with it pretty well. You hit her?"

I giggle recalling today. "Yeah, a little. Slapped her."

"What was she saying to provoke my otherwise calm and content wife to attack her?" He raises his eyebrow at me with his smirk fixing to his lips.

"The same old Elena shit. _Anastasia, how does it feel to know that I had him first? I showed him how to please women. I showed him everything he knows_." I roll my eyes, waving my hands around trying to impersonate her.

"Well, firstly, the impression is uncanny." He laughs out loud, chuckling to himself. "Second, she didn't show me everything baby. She showed me the, playroom stuff. You showed me vanilla. My favourite flavour of all."

"I should hope so. Vanilla is a fantastic flavour. I can't think of anything better than a bit of vanilla." I bite my lip, flicking some soap studs at him.

"Now, Mrs Grey. I think you should come here and let me offer you some delicious vanilla."

"I would, but your child is making me sick with hunger. How about we eat, then burn off the calories after?"

* * *

"Mac and Cheese?" Christian suggests, opening the fridge and taking out a blue container.

"Perfect." I grin at him, watching him glide around the kitchen and sorting dinner for us. _Well, heating it_. "Do you want me to lay the table?" I question, preparing to slide out of my stool.

"No. Stay where you are baby. I've got this. I thought we'd eat al fresco."

"Tupperware it is then!" I giggle.

"I love that sound." Christian leans in and grasps my face, tracing my lips with his tongue, then dipping it into my mouth.

I moan into him, feeling everything south start to twist and squirm.

"Food first Mrs Grey." He pulls away, leaving me frustrated and waiting, smiling as he walks back over to the microwave and our food.

Taking one of the forks he lay on the counter, I tuck into the Mac and Cheese, steaming in the blue container. I feel Blip start to swirl a little, clearly happy that I've finally got round to eating!

Christian and I laugh through the meal, turning to lighter conversation and putting today behind us. After tonight there is nothing that Elena can do to us, although how she managed to get into Grey Publishing scares me. I make a note to ask security how she did this! Especially after she mentioned Hyde. Just one stab after another from her.

"You look flushed."

I turn to face him, placing my fork back down on the counter.

"I'm stuffed." Leaning back against my stool, I rest my hand on my stomach through my satin dressing gown. My stomach has swelled a little more from dinner, rock hard under my touch.

"Hm, time to burn off those calories then." He winks, reaching out and placing his hand on my stomach. "How is he? Moving yet?"

"Still swirling."

Christian slides out of his stool, scooping up our forks and reminder of our dinner and taking them over to the sink. He leaves them, sauntering back over to me. I bite my lip watching him, starting to throb waiting for him to reach me.

Finally making his way over to me, building up the fire inside me, he stoops down, bringing his lips to my bump.

"You need to start kicking, so Daddy can feel you." He pulls apart my gown, revealing my bare stomach underneath. "I can't wait for you to arrive. I love you and I will show you very single day how much I love you."

He kisses my swell all over, tickling my skin with his stubble and gentle lips, and smiling up at me through his eyelashes.

"Now, time to show Mommy how much I love her."

_Yes, please._


	32. Chapter 32

**Disclaimer: The characters portrayed in this story are those in E L James's Fifty Shades Trilogy, therefore they remain her property. The plot and themes in this story are those of the author. The author is in no way affiliated with James. No copyright infringement intended.**

**LEMON! ;)**

**I know, you all need to know about the painting! I can assure you that it will all become clear very soon! If not the next chapter, then definitely the one following it! Depending how the events of the next chapter pan out! ;)**

**Much love and Enjoy! :) x**

* * *

"I think Mommy needs some vanilla."

Christian trails his lips up the length of my body; rising from my stomach and up through my sternum, lingering over my naked breasts and planting soft and sensual kisses on my nipples.

"I need you..." I pant, arching my back and forcing my nipple into his mouth, needing him to tease it between his teeth. "Always you."

Leaving my nipple he continues north, grazing his teeth along my throat and jaw, finally reaching my mouth. Groaning into him, his tongue explores me - flicking and suckling at mine. I feel his fingers tickling my knee - tickling the length of my thigh until he reaches...

_Oh my God._

"Always ready for me." Christian growls, slipping one of his fingers inside me, using his thumb to circle my throbbing sex.

I start to clench over him; closing down around his finger as he teases me, pulling it in and out.

"Oh, Christian -" Moaning loudly, having to bite down on my lip to stop me from screaming.

"Shh... Not just yet." He thrusts his finger inside one last time, bringing me close to the end but withdrawing before I can see the light.

"No!"

"Shh, Ana. I don't want to do this here." He kisses my lips, his hands pulling at my dressing gown, closely it around my naked body.

"Huh?"

"I want you. Upstairs. On our bed." His face drops with intent. "Now."

I nod, eager and panting. Christian eases me out of the stool and waves me off in the direction of the staircase. I practically sprint across the hall, bolting up the stairs and into our bedroom. As soon as I reach the edge of our bed I turn to face the door.

_He wants you on the bed_. My inner goddess is doing somersaults around the room, forcing me down on to the bed. I slip off my dressing gown - the satin gliding over my overly sensitive skin, and falling to the ground.

_You know what to do_.

His words ring through my ears; my blood boiling and my body ready for him. I climb up on to our bed, loosening my hair, and slide up near the headboard. I kneel on all fours, my behind up in the air, and my hair hanging down in front of my breasts. I widen my legs, parting my thighs further - ready for him to slip in between them. Needing him there. Needing him inside me.

I can hear him walking up the staircase, though the noise is faint over my heavy breathing.

"Perfection." I hear him groan as he enters. I keep my eyes low, avoiding contact with him and his pyjama bottoms hanging from his hips in that way. I know it'll be enough me for to combust this second if I dare to look at him. "The things I could do to you right now."

"Do it." I moan, feeling him stalk around the bed, examining me.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes... Oh God, yes."

I jolt as he swats me, hard across my behind. He soothes his hand over the spot he spanked, massaging my skin and grabbing it between his fingers. I feel the bed dip slightly as he climbs up behind me. I moan from his touch.

"Shh... Quiet baby."

"Ah!" He swats me again, harder this time, in the same place. "Christian -"

"Yes baby?" He caresses my behind, taking the sting away from the hit.

"Please..."

"What baby? You need to tell me what you want."

"You... I want all of you." I groan, his fingers trailing up and down my behind, stretching down to my sex. "Please!"

"Hold on to the headboard."

I lift my hands from the bed immediately, gripping my fingers around the headboard. Christian trails his fingers down my thighs.

"A bit wider baby." He places his hands flat on my thighs, pushing my legs wider. "Now lean forward."

I dip forward, my hair dangling down on to the pillow below me.

"Hold on baby. Don't let go of the headboard. This is going to be hard baby."

I scream out as he slams into me. Filling me in one, quick thrust. He thrusts, pushing me into the headboard. I grip hard, holding on for dear life; my knuckles turning translucent.

"God baby, you feel so good." He grunts, sliding his length out of me. Slowly.

I push back, meeting his thrusts as he slams into me, over and over. In and out. His hands reach forward and grab from breasts, taking them in his palms and squeezing them. Twisting my nipples between his fingers, as they bounce from my chest with each hard thrust.

"Christian!" I scream, feeling my insides twist and pulsate.

"Come on baby. Come for me."

"Oh God!"

Christian continues to slam his whole length into me, long and deep. Slamming into me until I burst. Screaming out I come over him, clenching around him while he pushes further, finding his own release and stilling inside me.

"Fuck, Ana!"

* * *

I lie spent on his chest, coming down from my high. Christian twists his fingers through my hair as I stroke his chest, lightly tracing his scars - kissing the ones closer to me.

"You're fucking amazing." He shifts under me, holding on to my head and dipping to kiss my hair.

"Well Sir, you are amazing at fucking." I giggle, stroking his happy trail.

"Careful Mrs Grey, you might wake the sleeping soldier down there."

"Seems he's already standing to attention!" I laugh, slipping my hand down over his erection, reaching his base and then sliding my hand back up him.

"Jeez Ana! Fuck that's..." I lift my head to look at him. He throws his head back against the pillow, taking in a deep breath through his mouth, forming a perfect O.

I pump my fist up and down his length, feeling him throb under my hand and swell further. Reaching his tip I roll my thumb over him, massaging his head then moving my hand back to his base.

"Ana!"

I squeeze him tighter, feeling him pulsate and beginning to jerk. I shuffle down the bed, throwing my leg over him and taking his tip in my mouth.

"Fuck!" Christian groans, lifting his hips and pushing his length deeper into my throat as I lower my lips over him. He reaches down with his hands, holding my head in place as he pushes into me.

I fold my lips around my teeth and suck him hard until he jerks, finally reaching his peak and emptying himself into my mouth. I swallow everything quickly; the salty warmth trickling down my throat.

"Ah, Ana." I look up as he comes undone.

Removing my mouth from him, I move back up to his chest, settling back down beside him, licking my lips.

"Baby, the things you do to me." He stares down at me, panting heavily. I grin knowing that I did this to him. Just me.

"What? You always say I have a very fuckable mouth." I bite down on my lip and lie back against the pillow under my head.

"That you do." He turns on to his front, pushing my legs apart with his knees and propping himself between my thighs, his erection still hard, pressing into my thigh. "My beautiful wife and her very fuckable mouth. Although, that's not the only part of you I like to fuck."

"Really? I have no idea what else you could be referring to Mr Grey." I giggle beneath him. He leans down, stroking my nose with his.

I stare up into his eyes. This is where I want to be. Here. Forever.

* * *

"Mrs Grey, are you sure you want to do this ma'am?"

I look up into the rear view mirror, seeing Sawyer looking back at me from the driver's seat.

"Sawyer, I need to go to work. I had enough of this from Christian this morning."

"I'm sorry ma'am. It's just after yesterday... I'm sorry about that ma'am. I didn't see her come through, she wouldn't have got in if I did." His drops his eyes from the mirror, moving back to the road.

"Sawyer, don't blame yourself. No one saw her come in. Christian had them check the security cameras, she pretty much avoided them as well. They only spotted her on the camera in the elevator." I smile at him as his eyes flicker back to the mirror. His face softens and a small smile stretches across his lips.

"Thank you ma'am. I will be more vigilant though. Mr Grey insists on it."

"I know. I overheard the discussion this morning." I shift in my seat, recalling the shouting from his office after he summoned Sawyer into the room shortly after breakfast. "Thank you for organising the repairs to the window."

"You're welcome ma'am."

We drive in silence over to Grey Publishing, Sawyer arriving in the parking lot just before nine. I'm surprised he managed to get us here on time. I woke up late this morning - exhausted from Christian's sexpertise, making love until the very early hours of this morning. My hips ache, but it was worth it. _God it was worth it!_

I climb out of the car, Sawyer offering his hand to help - Christian's 'suggestion'. The rain is light this morning, not enough to soak my new grey slacks or black blouse, which are clinging to my body as it is. I think I am swelling quicker than expected for the average pregnant girl - I'm already into my third trimester bras after finding that my second trimester ones were pushing my new cleavage up into my throat!

I greet Claire on reception as I enter, trying to make amends for yesterdays outburst.

"Ana." Hannah meets me at the elevator, holding the door open for me to slip in beside her. "How are you this morning?"

"Much better, thank you." I smile, shifting on my feet. I decided to wear a pair of heels Christian brought for me a while back, knowing that my feet won't throb from wearing them, but the cuts on the soles of my feet are proving a challenge already.

"Good. I've rearranged some of the interviews, two of them couldn't make it today and asked that they could have it tomorrow morning instead. Is that okay?"

"Yes, that's fine. As long as its early tomorrow. We need to find a replacement as soon as. Especially with the new publications coming into effect this week."

I take the file from her hands, a list of the applicants arriving today for the role. I skim the list of surnames, hunting for anything out of the ordinary - I always find myself looking for obscure names, dating back from the early days of college with Kate and our obsession with matching up names with professions. The amount of celebrity chefs and musicians we 'discovered' was unreal. I smile thinking back to the fun times we had, remembering to call Kate soon.

"I'm sure you'll find the perfect person for the role."

"I hope so." I shrug, stepping out of the elevator on to the lobby floor.

Mark, one of the junior editors approaches me with a bunch of files.

"Mrs Grey." He grins, flashing his perfect white teeth to me. Mark is adorable - cherub cheeks, perfectly sculptured features and oozing gay. "I've got three insanely boring manuscripts for your beautiful self, all with notes and my own personal opinion thrown in for good measure."

"Thank you, I'll look over these and see what I can do." I grin, accepting the files and clutching them to my chest.

"Unless you can get them to rewrite the whole thing I'd just forget about them. How's the little alien growing?" Mark grins, pointing down to my stomach.

"My baby is not an alien, and for your information the baby is perfectly fine. Healthy and getting fat."

"Might as well match his mother then!" He winks, giggling and stalking off to his desk before I have time to swipe him with the files.

"Your cards are marked Griffin!" I shout over to him, unable to stop the grin exploding over my face.

My office is tidy for a change, clearly Hannah's handiwork from yesterday. I really should give her a pay rise, damn she needs it with the way I've behaved lately. Settling down into my chair I start-up my computer and take out my BlackBerry from my purse, quickly tapping out a message to Kate.

*HI KATE! HOW ARE YOU? WE NEED A CATCH UP SOON! MISS YOU! A X*

Glancing up from my phone, pressing send, I switch to my computer to open up my emails and check the messages I have acquired in my absence. This morning there are ten emails, several from authors relating to manuscripts, a couple about the management meeting coming up at the end of the month and one from Hannah - the times confirmed for the two applicants who couldn't arrive today.

My phone buzzes in my hand and I switch my attention - surprised at how alert I am this morning after about an hours sleep!

*THANK GOD U MADE CONTACT! WAS JUST ABOUT TO CALL U! DRESS SHOPPING NEXT WEEK! K XO*

*FOR YOUR DRESS? OR FOR ALL DRESSES? A X*

*EVERYTHING. I'VE SEEN A FEW MAID OF HONOR DRESSES FOR U! V. EXCITED NOW! MAY 2012 NEEDS TO HURRY THE FUCK UP! K XO*

*IT DOES! CAN'T WAIT FOR BLIP TO GET HERE! :D OH, PLEASE PICK SOMETHING NICE! GOT TO GO, WORK! A X*

*URGH, DON'T REMIND ME - BORING MEETING TODAY! TXT U DEETS ABOUT SHOPPING TRIP! K XO*

I shut off my phone, pushing it back into my purse and check the last email in my inbox.

* * *

**From: Christian Grey**

**Subject: Confirmation**

**Date: 23rd November 2011 08:58:47AM**

**To: Anastasia Grey**

I have just received confirmation from our lawyer that the papers have reached Elena.

I hope this cheers you up.

What time do you finish today? I'll be done by four.

I love you.

C

X

Christian Grey

Content CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

* * *

**From: Anastasia Grey**

**Subject: Over the moon!**

**Date: 23rd November 2011 09:01:56AM**

**To: Christian Grey**

Still smiling from last night, and early this morning. You, my perfect husband, are a sex addict. Maybe you need some help for that?

That has cheered me up, although I was pretty damn happy before hand! ;)

Erm, my last interview is scheduled for 4:30pm. Might take an hour? What do you suggest?

I love you.

A

xxx

Anastasia Grey

Sore Editor from a night full of passion, Grey Publishing Ltd.

* * *

**From: Christian Grey**

**Subject: Maybe you should...**

**Date: 23rd November 2011 09:03:43AM**

**To: Anastasia Grey**

... look into that pregnancy yoga I read about? It's meant to help you with the positions you'll need to get into for childbirth. There's a highly recommended instructor here in Seattle.

Would you mind if I hung around your office until you're done?

I love you more.

C

X

Christian Grey

Madly in love CEO with an apparent 'sex addiction', Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

* * *

**From: Anastasia Grey**

**Subject: Other intentions**

**Date: 23rd November 2011 09:05:59AM**

**To: Christian Grey**

I know you are not just thinking about labour and childbirth by suggesting a yoga instructor! Though, it may be beneficial for nights like last night. I feel thoroughly well fucked this morning!

Of course, as long as you promise not to distract my staff! Too many of them fall at your feet as it is.

I love you more than you could ever realise.

A

xxx

Anastasia Grey

Editor reminded of her husbands sexpertise every time she moves, Grey Publishing Ltd.

* * *

"Ana?"

I look up, Hannah knocking on my door as she enters.

"Yes?" I smile, truly happy this morning.

"Your first applicant has arrived, would you like them in the conference room or in your office?"

"In here is fine. Can I get a cup of tea?" I ask, moving some of the papers on my desk to find my notepad.

"Of course, I'll bring it straight in for you." She smiles and ushers in the first of my interviewees - a tall, blonde haired girl, clearly straight out of college.

"Erm... Ms George?" I stand, stretching my hand to her as she enters.

"Rachel." She smiles, accepting my hand and settling down into the chair opposite me.

"Rachel. Thank you for coming, I'm sorry about having to rearrange it. Yesterday, something important came up which resulted in having to leave to office. My sincerest apologies."

Rachel shifts her seat, pushing her long blonde hair out of her face, showing off the huge gold hooped earrings hanging from her ears.

"Oh, it's fine. Don't worry about it, it gave me another day to prepare."

"Did you bring a portfolio with you?"

"Oh, yeah." She reaches down into her purse and pulls out a black folder. She offers it over to me and I check it out, flicking through the stacks of drawings and detailed artwork.

"These are good. You're very talented."

"Thank you Mrs Grey." I look up noticing her blush slightly, but I can tell that she relishes in the compliments. She looks like the type of girl who gets a lot of compliments and attention, with her long hair, green eyes and full figure accented by minimal clothing.

"So, what made you apply to Grey Publishing?"

"Well, I've followed your husband's work for a long time now..." Her eyes light up mentioning Christian. Her cheeks flashing red, while she shifts in her chair.

_Oh dear God. Not another one?_

I fall back in my chair, knowing that this is how today is going to be: just people here because of Christian. A today full of hearing compliments about being married to the Adonis called Grey.


	33. Chapter 33

**Disclaimer: The characters portrayed in this story are those in E L James's Fifty Shades Trilogy, therefore they remain her property. The plot and themes in this story are those of the author. The author is in no way affiliated with James. No copyright infringement intended.**

**Little bit of lemon! **

**Much love to you all! Hope you Enjoy! :) x**

* * *

"Do you have any questions?" _I hope to God you don't. Please say no!_

"When would the start date be, for the successful applicant?"

"Well, we're hoping to find someone as soon as. The start date would be early next week, subject to security checks."

I stand from my chair, walking around my desk to show the fourth applicant of the day out of my office. So far I've had the blonde who spent forty minutes obsessing over Christian, a Peter Parker look-a-like with absolutely no artistic skills and two mind-numbingly boring college drop-outs - one who tried his hand at flirting with me, and the latest, once again, desperate at the chance of meeting the infamous Mr Grey.

"Thank you for coming, it was a pleasure to meet you." I offer my hand, desperate to have a few moments to myself - away from repeating the same questions over and over, and having to sit there hearing them spurt out the same, rehearsed tripe. I just want someone with flair, originality and at the least a sense of humour. If they happen to not give two hoots about Christian, well, that would be just perfect!

"No, thank you Mrs Grey. I look forward to hearing from you soon." Grinning from ear to ear, he shakes my hand a little too enthusiastically. "Please could you pass on my best to Mr Grey? He's such an inspiration!"

"Of course. I'm sure he'll be just thrilled to hear that." I roll my eyes when his back is turned, as he stoops down picking up his briefcase from the floor. _Yeah, I know Christian will jump up and down knowing that you think he's such an inspiration!_

Closing the door behind him I lean back against it, exhausted, bored and now hungry. Rubbing my stomach and hurling myself from the door I settle back into my chair, checking my emails.

* * *

**From: Christian Grey**

**Subject: Having fun?**

**Date: 23rd November 2011 13:04:39PM**

**To: Anastasia Grey**

How are the interviews going? Anyone standing out?

Have you eaten?

C

X

Christian Grey

Interested CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

* * *

**From: Anastasia Grey**

**Subject: This. Is. Torture.**

**Date: 23rd November 2011 13:06:32PM**

**To: Christian Grey**

I doubt there has ever been a time in my life where I have felt as bored as I do right this second.

No one as of yet, though I'm losing optimism with each applicant. You'll be happy to know that you are a very popular choice of conversation.

Yes, I had a mid-morning snack. However, I am starving now. Lunch break soon to feed your child.

What? No professing your un-dying love to me in your signing off? Oh my, seems like the honeymoon is over! ;)

A

xxx

Anastasia Grey

Editor who will never find a damn illustrator, Grey Publishing Ltd.

* * *

"Hannah, can you come in here please?" I shout out, hoping she'll hear me.

In no time at all she opens my door, poking her head around the corner.

"Did you call for me?"

"Yes, when is the next interview?" I ask, pushing my hair behind my ears.

She leaves for a moment, returning with a red folder matching her outfit today - a red and white maxi dress.

"Hm, 1:45. Is there a problem?" Hannah looks up, closing the file and holding it to her chest. My stomach, with perfect timing, lets out a loud grumble. I look down and feel my cheeks flashing crimson.

"Lunch?" She giggles.

Nodding my head furiously I can't help but laugh. _You are too much like your Daddy!_ I giggle, resting my hand top of my bump.

"What would you like? I can run down to the deli if you like?"

"No, it's fine. I could do with the fresh air. Do you want me to grab you anything?" I rise from my desk, grabbing my purse and BlackBerry, and smoothing down my dress past my stomach.

"If you don't mind?"

"Of course, what you like?"

"Surprise me. I'm easy-going." Hannah smiles, easing out of my office to let me through behind her.

"Any allergies?" I question, looking down at my phone buzzing in my palm.

"Nope. Anything's good."

Smiling, I make my way over to the elevator, grateful that one of the girls from finance held the door for me. Looking at my screen I see I've got a new text message, from Kate.

*NEXT FRIDAY. ME, U, GRACE AND MIA. MOM IS CUSTOMIZING EVERYTHING FOR US. LUV YA K XO*

I fire back a quick reply, waiting to press send when I reach reception. Entering on to the floor I see Sawyer jump to attention, noticing me emerging from the lift.

"Problem ma'am?" He questions, confused as I reach him.

"No, I'm just heading out for lunch. I take it you'll be joining me?"

"Mr Grey's orders ma'am. I'd like to keep my job." Sawyer straightens his jacket, buttoning it up as we exit through the lobby doors, out on to the street.

I roll my eyes thinking about Christian. I wonder if I'll ever be allowed to just do what I want, without needing to confirm things with him first or having an entourage? I shake my head, knowing that it will never happen - after all, I can hardly walk around my house without being bombarded with 'where are you going?' or 'can I get you anything Mrs Grey?' Majority of the time from my over-protective Fifty.

The walk down to the deli is short, no more than ten minutes even in the lunchtime hustle and bustle of office workers trying to cram in as many carbs as they can handle. Sawyer stands loyally by my side, shouldering me from anyone too close. I feel claustrophobic by his behaviour, but grateful that he's doing this for Christian. As long as Sawyer is stalking me, Christian can rest a little, not having to worry about me as much.

"I'll wait out here ma'am."

I turn to face him, nodding a thank you and making my way into the deli. Inside I wait patiently in the small queue, the smell of freshly cooked food sending me over the edge; my stomach flipping and swirling. I'm pulled from my desires to eat everything on display when my phone starts blaring loudly from my purse; 'Your Love is King' already telling me who is calling.

"Hello?"

"Where are you?" Christian snaps.

"Excuse me?"

"Ana, where are you? I won't ask you again."

_What the fuck?!_ I pull my phone from my ear, staring angrily at it, then bringing it back again. Taking a deep breath I stop myself from firing back at him.

"I'm getting some lunch."

"Why didn't you just send your assistant?"

"I needed the fresh air. I don't know about you, but staring at the same four walls is boring and tiresome." I creep forward in line, edging closer to the waiter.

"At least Sawyer is with you, that's something I guess. Please, Ana, get your lunch and go back to the office."

"Christian, what is wrong with you?! I can do whatever I want. Maybe I want to eat in today?"

Reaching the teller I order mine and Hannah's lunch. A vegetarian wrap and a Chicken Caesar salad sub.

"Ana, why are ordering Chicken? I thought you couldn't stand Chicken anymore?"

"It's not for me, it's for Hannah. Anyway, stop changing the subject! Why did you call me?"

"I wanted to know where you were, and to get you back to your office." His voice softening slightly, but still stern. I roll my eyes. This side of him is never too far away.

"Why is it so important that I get back to my office?" I mouth a thank you to the waiter, taking back my credit card and food parcel.

"Please, don't argue with me Ana."

"Fine! God, did you forget to take your happy pills this morning or something?"

"Now, now Mrs Grey, do you want me to take you over my knee?"

"Oh no, _Sir_! Not a threat I hope? Besides, what the hell are you going to do all the way across town?"

Walking back out on to the street, Sawyer turns to face me.

"As much as I'd love to continue this, some of us have to get back to our offices to please their damn right annoying husbands."

"Ana?"

"What?"

"Walk fast."

"What?!" I squeal in protest but it's too late, he hung up the call promptly.

Sawyer struggles to keep up with me as I pound the pavement, heading back to Grey Publishing. Why does he do that? Why does he think I need wrapping up in cotton wool all the time? I pass several people, almost bumping into one of them: a girl, carrying a stack load of books. Thankfully I didn't knock into her, just made her jump back, startled.

Entering through the lobby doors Sawyer resumes his position, watching over the comings and goings. I stomp over to the elevator, glancing down at my phone: 13:31PM. Not long until the next series of Grey obsessives pound through my door and beg for a meeting with God himself.

I pass Hannah her lunch on my way into my office, closing my eyes as I enter and slamming the door behind me. _Back again! Whoopee-flaming-do!_

"Nice to know that you can do as I say."

"Jesus Christ!" I scream out, falling back against the door with my heart pounding through my chest and all the air forced from my lungs.

"Shit, Ana, I didn't mean to scare you!" Christian jumps out of my chair, launching himself to me.

He wraps his arm around my waist, pulling me into his chest. I breathe in his smell through his white shirt, unbuttoned at the top and showing a little of his copper chest hair.

"What are you doing here? I thought you said you were coming over at four?"

"Well, that was the plan but after your email I felt like I needed to come down early."

"Why? Surely that's just going to exasperate the problem? I mean, every person that has come through that door is obsessed with you!"

Wrapping my ponytail around his wrist, Christian yanks my head back to look into my eyes.

"I couldn't give a fuck about those idiots, I was referring to your comment about me not _'professing my un-dying love for you'. The honeymoon is over_?" His grey eyes widen, flickering around my face.

"Baby, I was joking." I try to move my head but he tightens his hold.

"Joking? Is my love for you a joke?" A smirk creeps across his lips, tracing it with his tongue. I start to lose myself, finding it hard to stand.

"No..."

"Do I need to show you how much I love you?" He releases my hair, trailing his hand down my back and cupping my behind. "Do I need to demonstrate that the honeymoon is certainly not over?"

His fingers stoop down, reaching the hem of my dress and following it round to my front. Lightly skimming my thighs and hitching up my dress a little.

"Christian -" I attempt to stop him, knowing where his intended destination is.

"Shh, quiet." His fingers reaching my lace panties; stroking the outside, feeling how moist I am for him.

Pulling my panties to one side, he trickles his fingers up and down my sex whilst his thumb finds my pulsating tip. Pressing hard and circling me.

_Please_...

"Christian, please..."

"Shh. Don't make me tell you twice baby." Slipping a finger inside, he mirrors the actions of his thumb. Fast and hard, pushing in and out. Circling. _Oh, God._

My walls start to close around him; squeezing hard as I twist and turn - my insides contorting and going into uncontrollable spasms.

His hand cupping the back of my neck, holding my head as he brings his mouth to mine. Forcing his tongue into my mouth and wrapping around mine.

"I love you Ana." He breathes into me, his fingers continuing to thrust inside me. "I will never stop loving you."

"Christian!" I bite down on my lip, holding back the scream building up in my chest. _I need to come. I'm going to come_.

"Not so fast Mrs Grey."

Christian's fingers leave me, quickly withdrawing as he pulls away. Dropping to his knees in front of me, he pulls my dress up further, holding on to my hips and pushing me backwards, up against the door.

His head buries into me. One hand moving to my behind, tilting my hips upwards, pushing my sex into him. His tongue flicking and teasing me.

"Ah!"

"Come Ana. Come for me baby!" He mutters, suckling my sex, soaking up my climax as I explode. My legs shaking and turning to Jell-O, making it impossible to stand.

I pant heavily as he continues to suckle, licking and circling me one last time. He releases me and moves my panties back into place, then rising to his feet.

"Hm, vanilla might taste good, but it has nothing on you baby." Christian smirks, licking his lips, and moving in closer to me. I slide my hands down my body and smooth down my dress.

"You are unbelievable." I reach up and grab his face, bringing his lips to mine, needing more of him. I dip my tongue into his mouth, tasting myself on his tongue. _God, the taste of me in him is_...

"We aim to please."

* * *

"Ana, Mr Grey." Hannah enters, smiling to Christian beside me. He pulled one of the chairs from opposite my desk to my side, stroking my hair as I ate my lunch. "Your next interview has arrived. What should I do?" Her eyes flickering to Christian and then back to me.

I turn to him, grasping his hand resting on my thigh. "Baby, do you mind? I think it might make things difficult if you're here. What with how many people are simply here for your benefit."

"It's just a face baby."

"It's your face!" I roll my eyes, shoving the rest of my lunch into the waste basket beside my desk.

"Say no more." His rises, lifting his hands to surrender. "I'll go make myself scarce for a while." Stooping down he kisses my cheek, moving closer to my ear and whispering to me. "Less of the eye rolling, you know what will happen."

I turn my head towards him, cocking my eyebrow. "You wouldn't dare."

"Try me." His eyes smoldering to me.

"Mr Grey?" Hannah interrupts, forcing Christian away from me and standing up straight by my side.

"Yes?"

"Can I get you anything to eat?"

Lifting his jacket from his chair, throwing it over his shoulder, he starts to make his way around the desk.

"No, I'm fine thank you. I've already eaten." Throwing a smirk over to me I blush, pressing my thighs together tightly and still feeling him, _there_.

As Hannah leaves, Christian slows walking around my desk and facing the window.

"Where did this come from?" He questions. His back turned.

"Where did what come from?"

He spins on his heel, holding up the painting of the coast and yacht. I'm surprised it's still in one piece from the force of my throw. His eyes fixate on it with disgust.

"This. Where did this come from?"

"I don't know. It was delivered here, but there was no name attached to it." I rise, walking over to him and taking it from his hand. "Don't you like it? It reminds me of the one in your office."

Christian lifts his eyes to mine. Cold grey into knowing blue.

"Ana -"

"Are you going to explain it to me?" I cross my arms around my chest.

"Yes."

"The truth?"

"Yes. But not now, you've already cancelled these interviews once. We'll talk later."


	34. Chapter 34

**Disclaimer: The characters portrayed in this story are those in E L James's Fifty Shades Trilogy, therefore they remain her property. The plot and themes in this story are those of the author. The author is in no way affiliated with James. No copyright infringement intended.**

**Bit more drama! **

**The big reveal is going to pan out of the next couple of chapters, so keep reading! Much more than meets the eye! ;)**

**Much Love! :) x**

* * *

"Hannah, can you send in the next applicant? I just need to use the restroom."

"Sure."

As I run over to the ladies room, Hannah makes a call downstairs to reception to get Claire to send up the next Grey obsessive. My bladder is full the brink and I swear Blip is squeezing it or something. A lot of the symptoms of pregnancy have happened relatively early for me, comparing it to the thousands of baby books that Christian has read and summarised the information for me: my breasts are massive and tender; my bump is bigger than expected; I had sickness from very early on and all I seem to do is eat and pee.

Seeing all of the cubicles full I pace the floor, crossing my legs and desperately trying to hold it in. _Come on!_

"Finally!"

I squeal as one of the cubicle hoggers exits. I don't look up from the floor as I practically barge past her to get in, though I catch her in the corner of my eye - tall-ish, slim, highlighted brown locks and a wash of denim on denim.

"Sorry..." She mumbles as I slam the door.

Pushing down my panties and hitching up my dress a little, I finally make contact with the porcelain. _Oh my God... Finally!_

"I'm sorry!" She calls out again, leaning closer to the door this time to make sure I hear her.

"Don't worry about it!" I squeak back, slightly embarrassed that she's listening to me pee. "Pregnant and full bladder doesn't really mix well!"

"Oh... Congratulations."

"Thanks."

Finishing off, and smoothing down my dress, I turn to flush, hearing the restroom door close behind heels clicking on the tiled floor. Exiting the cubicle I check myself out in the mirror. For someone who had so little sleep, I'm looking good for it - eyes are alert, though a little glassy; my cheeks are flushed, but I know that this is Christian's handiwork. I suppose I should get used to the whole having no sleep thing.

"You're going to keep us awake aren't you?" Rubbing my stomach I feel a small flutter. I hope Blip starts moving soon. I can't wait to feel something significant. Something Christian can feel. Something that I can share.

I fix my hair in the mirror, taking out my hair tie and then straightening it - trying to smooth out the 'my husband just accosted me in my office' look I'm rocking right now. I'm glad that's as far as he went; I put my foot down in having sex in my office! _You have sex in his!_ I scowl at my subconscious. _Of course, his is fucking soundproofed!_ Or soundproofed for fucking? _No, don't go there_!

Checking myself over I feel presentable and ready for the rest of the afternoon, taking a deep and calming breath I open the door to the lobby.

"Ana. I've copied those papers you wanted and filed them. I've emailed Ms Woods with the details over her contract."

"Thank you, Hannah. Is the next applicant in my office?"

"Yes, Mrs Anderson." She smiles, closing her notepad and heading back to her desk. I follow her swiftly, ready to take on the next bunch of applicants. _Just two more to go_!

Bracing myself, I take one last breath before opening my office door.

"Mrs Ander..." I trail off, confused and looking all around. My office is empty.

Walking back in the lobby I head straight for Hannah's desk. She looks up as I reach her.

"Hannah, I thought you said that the applicant was in my office?"

"She is... Isn't she?" She lifts from her chair, stretching across her desk to look into my office. "Well, she was there a minute ago. I just handed her a coffee."

"Can you call reception to see if she left?"

"Of course. In the meantime do you want me send the next one up?" Hannah asks, pressing for reception on her phone.

"Yeah, no need to waste time." I suppose I should take this as a blessing in disguise? One less interview to do!

Adjusting back into my office, and my coveted desk chair, which my behind has become very familiar with today, Hannah shows in the next applicant.

"Ms Perry-Johnson for you."

She steps aside, showing her into the room. Perry-Johnson is in her early thirties. Jet-black, sleek bobbed hair, green eyes and tall, very tall. She's dressed to kill in a three-piece navy pant suit with Jimmy Choos. Mia would be proud that I know this!

"I called down to Claire and she said Mrs Anderson left in a hurry, she asked me to pass this on to you." Hannah slides a folded piece of paper across my desk, quickly turning on her heel and leaving the office.

"Ms Perry-Johnson?"

"Please, call me Maggie." She smiles, settling into the chair opposite and placing her purse beside her.

"Maggie." I return her smile, looking down at the note in my hand.

_I'm Sorry. _

"Okay?" I mumble to myself. I wonder what happened? Her resumé was good, no publishing or creative design but she passed art school with flying colours. The sample from her portfolio was amazing - beautiful selections of colours and a keen eye for detail. On paper, she was the perfect candidate.

"Is there a problem?"

"Huh?" I bolt upright, Maggie staring blankly at me. "No, no problem." I shove the paper into my waste basket and open my notepad of questions. "Okay, so Maggie, what brings you to Grey Publishing?"

"Well, I applied for a role here back when it was under the previous owner, SIP as it was. I was short-listed, but the editor at the time was, how do I put it?"

"An asshole?"

"Yeah. He was!" She breaks out into a grin. _Phew, the tension is broken_. "So when I saw that a vacancy was opening again I contemplated applying, it was only when I realised that it under new management that I decided to go for it. Besides, I've looked into the work that you've done recently, it's impressive."

"Thank you. I can't take full credit for it though." I smile, pushing my hair behind my ears, feeling my cheeks flush.

"Come on, Mrs Grey! Since you took on the role, and the name changed, your stats have sky-rocketed. It's always down to the editor."

"You checked out our statistics?" I'm taken aback. _Someone who actually did some research?_

"Yeah, I checked before applying. As much as I am happy for any line of work, I want to work for a company that is progressing." Maggie settles back into her chair. I can tell that she's relaxed, that none of this pre-planned or rehearsed.

"So, how long have you worked in design?"

"Four years. I married young, divorced a very short time later, and just settled for any line of work. It took me a while to find something I was good at. I managed to get a role working for an advertising firm in New York, after missing out on the role here, but I had to relocate back to Seattle."

"Well, your portfolio speaks for itself. You're very talented."

I glance up over her samples, seeing her stare down at her hands and her cheeks heating slightly. Equally as awkward as I am when receiving compliments.

"So, tell me about yourself?"

"What's there to tell? Like I said, divorced for ten years now. No children, no pets. Although, I do have a slightly overweight, middle-aged partner at home, he's a bit protective and over-bearing sometimes. He didn't exactly relish the idea of me getting a job when we moved back here."

"I can sympathise!" I giggle.

"Really?"

"Oh yeah! I had the whole 'you don't need to work' lectures when I got married. As for protective? Constant phone calls - wondering where I am, who I'm with. I can't leave the house without my entourage of security and lately, refusing to let me to get behind the wheel of a car!"

"He won't let you drive?" Her eyes widen, shocked.

"Pregnant." I slide back in my desk, showing off my bump.

"Oh! Congratulations!"

"Thank you!"

"When are you due? If you don't mind me asking?"

"No, erm, end of May." I smile, running my hand across my stomach. "Though I wish it was sooner. But, anyway, back to the interview. Is there anything that you wanted to know?"

"Do you mind me asking a few questions?" Maggie pulls out a small notepad from her purse.

"Of course not. Go right ahead."

"Well, can I assume that the role comes with the usual benefits?" She looks up from her pad.

"Yes, all the usual insurances. However, everyone working here is subject security and background check."

"I was wondering if that would be the case, considering your husband's I can assure you I'm squeaky clean!" Mentally ticking off her list she reads down the page. "Can I ask why the previous illustrator is leaving?"

"She's leaving to have a child, she's decided not to return to work afterwards."

"Oh, that's great. So, when would you be looking for someone to start?"

"That depends."

"On what?" Her face twists, concerned.

"On when you're available." I break out into a grin.

"What?" Her mouth falls open in shock, her eyes wide and glassy.

"Maggie, your work is amazing, you have a glowing reference, and to be honest with you, you're the first person to walk in here who has done some sort of research, and who hasn't bombarded me with questions about my husband."

"You're offering me the job?"

"Yes. Of course, we'll need to run a check first, but I really want you to come and work for us. Grey Publishing would be thrilled to have someone like you working for us." I rise from my chair, grinning from ear to ear. Finally, someone genuine, easy-going and actually interested in the job and not the perks of working for Mr Grey, or visualising themselves under him!

"Oh my God! Thank you so much!" Maggie bolts up from her chair, flinging her arms around me and squeezing me tightly.

"Whoa!"

"Oh, I'm sorry!" She drops her arms quickly, embarrassed.

"No, don't worry about it. I'm glad you're happy!"

"I'm beyond happy, this is... amazing! Mrs Grey, thank you!"

"There's one other thing." I straighten my back, hands on my hips.

"Yes?" She reaches down, picking up her purse and flinging it around her arm.

"Please, call me Ana. Mrs Grey is too formal for me. I like a casual work environment, as much as it annoys the shit out my husband."

"Ana." She grins, offering her hand out to me.

I walk with her through the lobby, over to the elevators. We joke about her boyfriend, comparing his over-bearing tendencies with Christian. It appears Frank has nothing on my Fifty!

"Maggie, it's been a pleasure meeting you. I'll have my assistant send you some details about your start date."

"Thank you." She holds out her hand one last time before entering the lift, the doors closing around her.

"Is that the one?" Hannah jumps beside me, smiling from ear to ear and mimicking my happiness.

"Sure is. Can you make sure to organise her... stuff?"

"Of course. I'll do it right away."

* * *

Typing out several emails to the members of our design team, I tell them that they now have a replacement for Joanne. I'm thrilled to have found someone, after the state of some of the applicants I was thinking that I would never find someone. I guess Maggie is a gift straight from heaven, I'm sort of grateful that Mrs Anderson walked out before I had the chance to interview her - if she matched her resumé then I know she would have been the one.

At 2:43PM I'm done for the day. Taking out my BlackBerry I punch in my favourite number, the call answersing after just two rings.

"Grey."

"Christian?"

"Ana, sorry baby, I wasn't expecting to hear from you." His voice softening.

"It's okay. I'm just calling to say I'm done." I fidget packing up my desk slowly with one hand.

"Oh, really? You said four thirty?"

"Yeah, but I've found the person I want. Is there a problem?"

"No, no problem. I'll be there in ten."

Before I have the chance to say anything he hangs up.

"Love you too." I mumble, shoving my phone back into my purse and rising from my desk. _God, I love it when he just hangs up like that!_

I decide to take the stairs down to reception, to waste some time, although I managed to beat my usual timing and make it to the lobby doors in no time at all. As I reach the doors, I see Christian jump out of the SUV and head straight over to me.

"Baby." He stoops down, kissing me chastely on my lips, winding me slightly.

"You okay?"

"Of course. Come."

Ushering me out of the building and over to the waiting car I slide in, Taylor in the driver's seat.

"Mrs Grey." He nods, looking up at me through the rear-view mirror.

"Taylor." I smile back, waiting for Christian to slide in beside me. He does this with ease and grace, one fluid movement, silently closing the door behind him.

"Home."

"Yes Mr Grey."

We sit in silence on the drive home; Christian staring out of the window, his arm resting on the door frame with his hand up to his mouth, the other fisted in his lap. I try to comfort him, running my fingers over his knee but he shuns me, bringing my hand to his mouth and kissing it lightly, then lowering it back into my lap. Looking up at him I'm concerned, why is he like this? What happened in the hour or so since I last saw him? I mean, yeah we didn't really end things on a high-note, but surely he's not hung up over this? Is it really that bad?

Arriving back at the house, Taylor pulls up outside. I hop out, breaking the 'routine' of being helped out of the car, and make a start towards the house. I head straight upstairs into our bedroom to change, into something comfortable and homely, needing to be Ana again, not editor of a publishing house.

"Ana?" Christian shouts after me.

"I'm up here!" I call back, shuffling out of my dress and heels, dropping my purse by one of the dressers.

"There you are." I walk out of our closet, smiling weakly at him as he perches himself on the edge of the bed. "What are you doing?"

"I'm changing."

"Okay. So you found someone?"

"Yeah, her name's Maggie. She's really down-to-earth, relaxed and she didn't bring you up once!" I giggle, throwing on some sweats and a t-shirt, sliding my BlackBerry into the front pocket of my sweats after taking it out of my purse. "I think we're going to work really well together!"

"I'm glad you found someone you like."

Heading back out of the closest, Christian stares down at his hands.

"Christian, what's wrong?" He looks up at me, shrugging his shoulders. "I know something's up, what is it?"

"You wanted to talk, didn't you?"

"Yes." I mumble, shuffling over to the bed and settling down beside him. "Christian, I just want you to be open with me."

"What do you want to know?" He lowers his head, rubbing his face with his hands. His bruised and beat up hand nearest to me. I want to kiss it better, but I know now is not the time.

"Well, forgive me if I'm wrong, or jumping to conclusions, but that painting I got at my office is awfully similar to the one in yours. The one you refused to tell me who it was from."

"I didn't refuse." Mumbling through his hands, finally pulling them down his face and resting them on his thighs.

"You did everything you could to bypass it."

"Ana -"

"Christian, just tell me." I reach over and clasp his hand. "Please, just tell me."

"It's complicated."

"When is anything uncomplicated when it relates to either of us?" I giggle slightly, trying to ease the tension between us but failing. Christian shifts, pulling his out away from mine.

"I don't want to upset you Ana."

"Christian -" I slump to the floor in front of him, sliding between his knees. "Why would this upset me?"

Looking down into my eyes, his expression changes - apologising to me through the silence, stooping forward and glaring down at me through his narrow, grey eyes.

"Christian, why do you think that I'm going to get upset over this?"

"You know why." He grabs me by my shoulders, squeezing them tightly and rising from the bed, pulling away from me. I slump on to my behind.

"_Her?!"_ I scream out. "It's her isn't it?"

"Ana -"

"I knew it!" I pull my knees up into my chest, wrapping my arms around them. "I fucking knew it!"

"Baby, don't... don't do this." I feel him wrap his arms around me. I push back, sliding on the floor away from him. "Ana, please!"

"You lied to me."

"No, Ana. No I didn't!"

I push off the ground, bringing myself to my feet to stand in front of him. I try to force back the tears, but my quivering chin gives me away. He tries to edge forward but I step back, furthering the distance between us.

"Yes you did! I asked you that night if they were from Elena and you said no. You fucking lied to me!"

"Baby, I didn't know what else to say to you! You were pissed and upset as it was!"

"The truth would have been nice!" I bite back, throwing myself over to the bathroom, slamming the door behind me and locking myself in.

"Ana, don't do this. Baby, don't lock me out!"

I slide down the back of door, falling to my behind and curling up into a ball, tears falling rapidly from my face. _He lied to me_.

"Ana!" The door vibrates from his banging on the other side. "Ana, talk to me."

"Fuck off Christian!"


	35. Chapter 35

**Disclaimer: The characters portrayed in this story are those in E L James's Fifty Shades Trilogy, therefore they remain her property. The plot and themes in this story are those of the author. The author is in no way affiliated with James. No copyright infringement intended.**

**Enjoy, and as ever I love your reviews!**

**Little addition, in case you wanted to know: the song is The Script 'Nothing' :) Just in case you wanted to have a little listen!**

**Uploading the next chapter later on today! **

**Much love to you all! :) x**

* * *

Staring around the bathroom I try to block him out: banging on the door, attempting to turn the lock and screaming out my name, is not what will get me out of this room. I heard someone else for a minute, assuming it was someone checking in on us, needless to say Christian snapped at whoever it was. I feel bad for who was on the receiving end of his anger, but I really couldn't care less right now. I couldn't give two shits if Christian is upset or angry.

_Why do I always end up locked in the bathroom?_ Maybe one day he'll piss me off and unload a bomb on me while I'm in the kitchen - at least then I'll have food!

My eyes are dry and scratchy from my smudged mascara; my cheeks sticky and my throat sore. I haven't moved in a while, resulting in a loss of feeling in my behind and needing to shuffle my weight every few minutes, in a hope to relieve some of the tingling.

"Anastasia!" Christian shouts, banging on the door again. The door vibrates hard against my back; I lift my head from it, leaning back when he's done, to save myself from a greater headache than the one I already have.

I can't talk to him. I don't think I can talk at all.

"What? Are you fucking kidding me?"

I press my ear to the door, thinking he's talking to me but quickly realise he's on his phone. Always on his fucking phone!

"No. I said no! Andrea, just fucking deal with it!"

Rolling my eyes I feel my own phone buzzing in my pocket, tingling my thigh through my sweats. I pull it out, clocking the time - 17:21PM. I've been in here a while.

* * *

**From: Hannah James**

**Subject: Ms Perry-Johnson**

**Date: 23rd November 2011 17:20:35PM**

**To: Anastasia Grey**

Ana,

I have sent over the details to Maggie, she starts on Monday.

IT have set up her codes and have validated them. Her checks came back clear. I've attached these to this email if you want to check them yourself.

Have a good Thanksgiving break. See you Monday.

Hannah :)

Hannah James

Assistant to Mrs Anastasia Grey, Grey Publishing Ltd.

* * *

Shit, I'd almost forgotten about Thanksgiving and 'our' decision to allow everyone an extra long weekend break to enjoy the holiday. Christian and I planned on going over to Bellevue, to spend it with his parents. I don't know if that's such a great idea now. I don't know if I could play happy families and smile, pretending that everything is alright when on the inside I'm screaming like a steam train.

"Fucks sake Ana, please just say something? Knock on the door, throw something... Just so I know you're still alive!" He huffs through the other side of the wood.

I contemplate going on a rampage, but that's too much effort. I, instead, settle for a means of communication he should be familiar with.

* * *

**From: Anastasia Grey**

**Subject: Alive**

**Date: 23rd November 2011 17:24:56PM**

**To: Christian Grey**

I'm alive.

You can leave me alone now.

* * *

I hit send, and wait for him to receive it. The delay is a matter of seconds before I hear the ping of his inbox. I sit in silence waiting; he lets out a sigh and bashes the door once more - his head maybe, or a fist? The latter seeming probable considering the state of the window in his office.

"So this is all I get?" His voice bleating through the door.

* * *

**From: Anastasia Grey**

**Subject: Alive**

**Date: 23rd November 2011 17:26:02PM**

**To: Christian Grey**

Take it or leave it.

* * *

"FINE!" I hear him snap, reading my message. "Fine, I'll take it. Though this isn't exactly mature, now is it Ana?"

_Mature? Fuck you Grey!_

I climb to my feet, holding on to the door handle for support. I hold back the urge to storm through and scream into his face until I can't breathe. _He cannot be serious?!_ I walk over to our bath, stretching across to open up the faucet. I need something to do.

* * *

**From: Anastasia Grey**

**Subject: Are you fucking kidding me?**

**Date: 23rd November 2011 17:29:49PM**

**To: Christian Grey**

This isn't mature? Don't fucking give me 'mature'!

The mature thing to do is to tell your WIFE the TRUTH! Did it not say somewhere in our vows that we would be open with one another: in trust each other with both the happiness and sadness in our lives? Or did I dream that bit?

I guess our vows meant nothing? Just a load of LIES that we told in front of everyone we love and care about, and in front of God?

Good to know that's where we stand.

Leave me alone.

* * *

Throwing my phone on to the side of the tub, I fill the water with some bath oil; the bathroom smothered in Jasmine and warmth.

I hear him curse under his breath as I undress, slipping down into the water. Leaning back, I dip my head back under, wetting it completely.

"Okay, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it in that way. Just please let me in Ana."

I reach over and grab my phone, my wet hands soaking it, but I couldn't care less - it's just a phone. Just like my clothes, my wedding ring on my finger, this house - just material objects that mean nothing.

* * *

**From: Anastasia Grey**

**Subject: I'm asking you...**

**Date: 23rd November 2011 17:40:22PM**

**To: Christian Grey**

... to leave me alone.

The last thing I want to do right this second is talk to you.

* * *

I throw my phone back down, on to the floor. It bounces loudly; I lean over the side of the tub to check I haven't smashed it on the marble. Seeing that it's still in one piece I lie down once more. The water washes over my skin, warming me and distracting my mind.

"Ana?" His voice is softer, muted and scared. The rational side of me wants to give in, open the door and hear him out, but the pent-up, frustrated and hurt me wants him to feel this way. _I want him to feel hurt. I want him to feel a fraction of the pain I am going through_.

"Ana, I understand. I fucked up, and I'm sorry. Please, just tell me you're okay and I'll leave you alone. Please?"

I shift in the water, sitting forward and resting my head on the side of the tub; the cool porcelain a marked change from the warmth lapping around my stomach.

"Baby, please just say something. Anything?" His voice breaks towards the end.

_Come on Ana, you're making the poor guy sob his heart out over here!_ I scrunch my face to the ever nosey and invasive voice in my head. _Who's side are you on?_

"Please just leave me alone." I mumble, wondering if it's loud enough for him to hear.

The silence I'm left with is evidence enough.

* * *

Wrapping the towel around myself, tucking it under my arm, I scoop up my clothes and make my way out of the bathroom. I half expected him to still be sitting on the other side. Part of me hoped he would still be there.

The bedroom is empty, plunged into darkness except one of our bedside lamps beaming a dim light on his side of the bed. The sheets are crumpled, showing where he was lying at some point. I run my fingers over them, smoothing them out, the cold strange under my warm hands.

I change quickly, sliding a cream satin nightgown over my head. It hangs close against my new body, thankfully my dressing gown is a larger size, masking everything.

The house is quiet from the hallway, just the lights on, leading the way downstairs. I walk down slowly, taking each step at a time, images of falling down in the forefront of my mind. That would really top this day off nicely! Hitting the wooden floor at the bottom I look around, up and down the hall - the lights are all on, but there's no noise. Nothing.

Feeling hungry and tired I head straight for the kitchen, sticking my head in the fridge and looking for something to eat. Pulling out a few containers I try to find something, but everything is too heavy or too much effort to make, or Blip turns his nose up at it causing my stomach to churn.

Noticing some Ham on one of the shelves I check the freezer, looking for some subs and smiling when I see them. Gail sure does look after us! I pull out two pre-cut subs, shoving them in the microwave to de-frost. It takes a while to figure it out, different to the one back at Escala.

I try to keep the noise down as I fleet around, trying to grab everything I need. The noise startles me - loud and painful in the silence surrounding the house. I fix the subs quickly, shoving the Ham and some lettuce inside and adding a small amount of dressing to it. Setting it down on the plate I leave the mess, scattered over the counter, heading down the hall to his study.

As I approach I can hear tapping. I can hear him tapping away at his computer. He always throws himself into work when he's pissed off or scared. Something to distract his mind. Opening his door slowly a quiet hum of music leaks through...

_I'm still in love but all I heard was nothing. She said nothing. I wanted words but all I heard was nothing_.

Stepping in, holding the plate close to my chest, Christian jumps to his feet, pushing back out of his chair and standing to attention, switching the music off with a jolt.

"An-Ana?"

I keep my eyes on the floor, walking slowly over to his desk and resting the plate on the side.

"I brought you something to eat. I didn't know if you'd eaten or not."

"No I haven't, thank you."

I smile, refusing to make eye contact with him, spinning on my heel and leaving, taking my sub with me.

"Will you eat with me?" Christian stutters. "Please?"

I turn, facing him, looking up for the first time. His hair is all over the place and disjointed, his eyes are red and tired, and he looks in pain. I've only seen him like this a few times and each time my heart breaks a little. Today is no different.

"Christian, I don't want to talk right now. I don't have the energy to discuss this."

"We don't have to. We can take it at your pace." He moves, edging closer, but I mirror him, stepping back. "When you're ready."

"You understand I need to know at some point? That just because I don't want to talk tonight, this doesn't mean it's just going to evaporate?"

He nods, his eyes fixed on mine.

I move back towards his desk and slump into one of the chair opposite his, sliding my legs underneath me and pulling my gown around me. A small smile creeps across his face, but doesn't touch his eyes, as I sit and bring the sub to my mouth.

We sit in silence eating our late evening snack, turned dinner. I flicker my eyes to him often, each time finding him staring at me. He smiles a few times but I can't return the favour. Finishing up, a short while after him, I rise, collecting the plate and leaving his study, retreating back to the kitchen.

"Ana, you can leave that." Christian whispers, following me into the kitchen.

"I intend to." I place everything down in the sink, washing my hands before stepping away. "I'm going to bed."

I shuffle past him, heading in the direction of the staircase, pulled back when he clasps on to my arm. I tug it from his grip, looking up at him, his face shifting to confusion.

"Don't."

"Sorry."

"I think it's best if you sleep in one of the guest rooms tonight."

"What?" His eyes widen, and his head jolting back slightly.

"We both need a good night's sleep if we are going to have any sort of attempt at fishing through this shit tomorrow." I reply to him, turning away and heading up the staircase.

Christian follows me into the bedroom, walking straight past me, into the closest and taking out some pyjama pants and a t-shirt. He's silent behind me, walking a few paces slower and keeping his distance. I pull back the duvet and slide in under it, shuffling down the bed and hoisting the cover up to my face.

When he emerges he keeps his head low, sauntering past slow and painfully. Reaching my side of the bed he dips, about to bring his hand to my face but pulling back.

"I only sleep well when I'm with you." His words enough to crumble me.

"I know. But I can't... Not tonight."

"I know. I'm here if you need me."

He reaches over and switches off the lamp, the only light seeping in from the hall. Closing the door behind him I hear him whisper to me.

"I love you."

For the first time in a very long time, I cried myself to sleep - feeling alone and scared. Curling up into a ball for protection I finally gave into the night, allowing my body and mind to fall simultaneously.

"I love you Christian."


	36. Chapter 36

**Disclaimer: The characters portrayed in this story are those in E L James's Fifty Shades Trilogy, therefore they remain her property. The plot and themes in this story are those of the author. The author is in no way affiliated with James. No copyright infringement intended.**

**Apologies for the delay! Technology was not on my side yesterday! Another chapter on its way soon!**

**A lot of speculation over Mrs Anderson! All will be revealed in due course. First things first, Christian and Ana need to talk!**

**Much love to you all and keep them reviews coming! :) x**

* * *

"Lets go find Mommy. She's hiding here somewhere."

I lie back in the long grass, shielding myself, listening to the squealing and giggling from across the field. The sun beats down on me, my skin hot to touch.

"Can you see Mommy?"

I hear another high-pitched squeal and a stampede of feet, running towards me.

"Mommy!"

"There's my baby boy!" I clasp my arms around him, clinging him to my chest and breathing in his delicious smell. His baby smell. His perfect copper hair shining the light, forming a halo above his angelic face. "Where's Daddy?"

"Daddy!" He wriggles in my arms, pointing to the right of us. "Daddy!" He screams, seeing him in the distance.

I watch as he continues to scream for him, but sit there in horror as he walks away. Walking away from us both, towards a black car and climbing into the passenger seat in the front, leaning over to the driver and then eclipsing into the distance.

"Daddy!"

I bolt upright, waking with a start and throwing away the cover pooled around my chest, my legs exposed and cool. I glance around the room, taking in my dark surroundings and the silence disrupted only by my heavy breathing. Twisting, I look over to the bedside table, fumbling for the alarm clock. 04:56AM.

I've tossed and turned all night, clock watching and trying to force myself to sleep with no prevail. Each time I woke from a brief state of unconsciousness my thoughts jumped straight to Christian. Is he okay? Is he sleeping? Or is he awake and pacing the floors? At one point I was convinced I was being watched, feeling eyes burning into the back of my head as I lay with my body away from the door, but when I turned I was alone - everything the same as when he left.

Unable to lie there any longer I climb out of bed, adjusting my dressing gown and heading to the bathroom. Switching the light on I rub my eyes, the bright white lights above me stinging them. I stand in front of the basin, splashing cold water over my face and washing away the light sweat from my confusing dreams - the same dream on loop. Every time I fell it was all I saw. Every detail the same.

Staring back at me in the large mirror looming in front of me is a lost girl. The same long, brown hair falling around my shoulders; the same blue eyes too large for my face. Everything's the same on the outside, but on the inside I'm falling apart. I need to know, for my own insanity, but the other side of my brain is yelling at me to stop, ignore everything and carry on as if nothing as happened - to trust him. _Can I trust him?_

I scoop my hair up into a hair tie, pulling it out of my face, walking back into my bedroom. _Our bedroom_. Searching through our closet I try to pick something to change into, something comfortable - sweats being the clear choice. Taking out a pair, I pull out one of Christian's hooded sweatshirts, one that I've seen him wear for working out in. Pulling it down around me, I roll up the sleeves to my elbows and adjust the swell of material around my middle. It masks my bump perfectly, making it invisible to everyone until I pull it back, clinging it against my stomach. If only it could mask everything else.

Pacing the bedroom, finding things to do, I open the curtains. It's still dark outside, but the light is emerging slowly over the horizon. Another hour or so and the new day will begin properly. I've made the bed and exhausted every other possibility, finally resorting to leaving the security of the room.

Opening the door slowly, I try to keep quiet and not draw attention to myself. I creep down the hall, passing the baby's room the door is open wide and empty. _Soon... You'll be here soon._ I close the door, heading further down the hall reaching the first guest bedroom. The door is open ajar, pushing it open a little more, I peek my head inside. The bed is a touch small than ours, made of wood with a leaf inspired headboard. The walls are pale green, with small picture frames hanging from them - they're all pictures that José has taken of landscapes: beautiful sunsets and photographs of the sound. He gave them to us as a wedding present, all of them beautifully framed and ready to be hung up as soon as we moved in. The curtains are open, what light there is shining through on to the bed, and on to Christian.

He's lying on his back, sprawled out on top of the duvet with just a sheet draped over him. His head is turned towards the window. I can't tell if he's awake or sleeping, waiting for the rise and fall of his chest to help decide which, but he's practically motionless. If he is asleep, he needs his rest. He doesn't sleep enough as it is. Taking a quick glance at him I pull the door to, leaving it as it was before I intruded. He's always so peaceful in his sleep; childlike and still. Unless he's having a nightmare, of course, but thankfully he hasn't had one in a while. If anything, I'm the one suffering from the dreaded night terrors.

I find myself in the kitchen, knowing that I'll need something to eat but losing my appetite as the minutes go by. Nothing excites me, nothing appeals and if anything my stomach churns at the thought of the majority of the food we have on offer. I can't stomach anything, last night I forced myself to eat more for keeping the peace, and not for myself or for Blip. Closing the fridge and retreating out of the kitchen I wonder out through the hallway, staring out to the sound through the wall of glass. It looks so peaceful outside - the sun slowly rising, the water calm and bobbing away in harmony with the breeze. Resisting the urge to go outside and enjoy this rare opportunity is too much, finding myself opening the french doors and feeling the clean air hitting me clear across the face, the chill stinging my nose.

The slow walk down to the decking is hard and cold under my bare feet, but I like it. I like the freedom of it. This is the only freedom I have, my mind closed off and caged surrounded by demons of Christian's past. Reaching the end of dock I slip down on to my behind, my legs hanging over the edge but nowhere near long enough to touch the water beneath me. I would assume it'd be freezing, judging by the chill fleeting around in the wind. I've always liked being outside when it's like this, though never when it's raining or snowing.

The sound is clear, nothing in sight expect the few birds that fly overhead and chirp quietly. I try to close my eyes and push out everything in my mind, taking a few deep breaths to help. All of my senses are heightened, hearing the strongest of them all. I don't turn around hearing footsteps coming down the dock, and feeling the vibrations as they edge nearer.

"I brought you this." Christian mumbles, sitting down beside me and throwing a blanket around my shoulders. I allow him to pull it around my front, unsure of how I feel around him now that he's conscious and talking. "It's cold out here."

"I like it."

"Have you been out here long?" He shifts, hanging his legs over the edge like I have.

"A while. Did I wake you?"

"That would be impossible. I haven't slept."

"At all?!" I throw back to him, surprised. _I was sure he was sleeping_.

Christian is staring out to the water, his eyes flickering to look at me through the corner of his eyes. He just nods his head and continues to sit there in silence.

"I didn't sleep well either. Weird dreams."

"Bad?"

"Yes." I catch him turning to look at me but I move my head quickly, turning face on and looking out ahead of me. I know I'll crumble looking him straight in the eye. He has that power over me and my body.

"Ana, I am sorry. You do know that? Don't you?"

"No I don't." I mumble, pulling the blanket around me tighter, the cold air causing me to shiver slightly, though being with him could be a likely culprit.

"I've apologised Ana -"

"I know you have, that's not in question." I interrupt, snapping at him. "But I don't know what you are apologising for. How am I supposed to believe you're sorry if I don't know what it is that you've done."

"Point well made."

"You need to start talking."

"Now?" His voice raised slightly.

"Yes. Now." I fire back. _Come on Christian, sooner rather than later!_

"Where do you want me to begin?" He sighs, finally caving.

"Start at the part where your paedophile ex-dom... sub, or whatever she was, continues to be a fixture in our lives." I snap, spitting it out with disgust. I can feel him tense up next me, knowing this conversation is going to be hard for both of us. "And tell me the truth this time."

"Ana, I have told you the truth."

"No you haven't. I asked you if she sent that picture to you and you lied. You swore on my life and our baby's life that she didn't give it to you!"

"I didn't know then that it was from her. Well, not for certain." He shifts next to me, crossing his legs underneath him and twisting his body to face me. I stay adamant, facing away from him. "I had my suspicions that it was from her, but I couldn't swear to it. I didn't even want it there, I was going to throw it away but I left for a meeting and Andrea fucked up and got maintenance to hang it in my office before I returned, thinking it was a Trouton piece."

"Why didn't you get rid of it then? If you thought it was from her and you claim that you didn't want it, why didn't you get her to un-hang it?" I fist my fingers around the blanket, bringing it closer to my chest.

"Ana, if you haven't realised I work hard. I can't chase around every little fucking thing when I have a million and one more important things to do! I would have got rid of it eventually, I didn't expect you to leave work in a fucking hissy fit and come storming into my office! Trust me, if I did, it would have been gone!"

"Well I'm sorry for wanting some comfort from my husband." I bite back, sharp with him. _I can't believe he's passing this on to me!_

"I didn't mean it that way." I catch him in the corner of my eye, running his fingers through his hair and slamming them down on to his lap. "Fuck sake Ana! I don't know how to deal with this!"

"When did you know that it came from her?"

"That night. When I was in the office with the security team, discussing the plans over the issues about that fucker and Grey Publishing, I emailed her. I needed to know that it wasn't from her, but evidently it was."

"Then why did you say it wasn't? If you didn't know then you could have just said!"

"I panicked. On one hand I was positive it was from her, in which case I tell you and it would have been world war three, or I go with the reality of the situation, tell you I don't know and then deal with the after math of that. I just blurted out the first thing that came to mind."

I finally give in and turn to face him, crossing my legs underneath me and mirroring him. I sit smaller than him, swamped in the blanket. The dock is small, resulting in us being close together but I make the conscious choice to limit the contact between us. I can't deal with that just yet.

"Okay. So you found out, then what happened?"

"I told her to leave us alone. Stop sending me things, and to cut off all communication. I told her about gifting the company to her. She was grateful that I didn't decide to bankrupt her." He looks straight at me, concentrating on my eyes. I crumble, looking around and diverting my attention. "I didn't speak to her for a short while, thinking that she might have taken the fucking hint. But she called me at work."

"And?"

"She asked for a meeting. She needed to tell me some things in person, she said they were important."

"Were they?"

"She wanted to apologise for what happened that night... the night you told me about Blip. But she also needed my help. Linc is being a bastard to her again, she didn't have the funds to secure a restraining order against him, at least not until I signed everything over to her. I gave her the money. We had lunch and discussed a few things. She asked me about you, and us."

"Really?"

"Ana, she still considers herself a close friend of mine even if I don't. She wanted to know if we were still the real deal and not some fleeting affair."

"Marriage not being enough proof?" I huff. _That fucking bitch!_

"Clearly not. She almost died when I told her about the baby."

"You did what?!" I bolt upright, clambering to my feet in one swift movement, the blanket falling to my feet. "You told her?"

"Ana, it just slipped out." Rushing to his feet he grabs my arms, steadying me and stooping down to my level. "Baby, I didn't know what I was saying. I was pissed that she was trying to make out that we're not real. I wanted to show her that we are, Blip is proof of that. I told her how happy I am. How happy we both are!"

"I guess that explains the gift then! I racked my brains trying to figure out how she knew about our baby and there it was all along. You couldn't keep your mouth shut." I pull my arms away from him, turning on my heel and storming up the decking towards the house.

"Ana!"

"No Christian. No!" Reaching my side and out of breath slightly, Christian pulls me towards him, both hands pressing into my arms. "Out of everyone in this world, she was the last person I wanted to know about Blip!"

"Baby, I'm sorry! I am so sorry!"

"How did she know about the house?" I question._ Please don't tell me he told us where we were moving to!_

"I don't know. That's part of the reason I was so fucking angry when she sent over that fucking gift to you! I asked her not to contact either of us again!"

I ease slightly, relaxing in his hold as he loosens his grip.

"Did you see her that Saturday? When she came to my office she said you saw her. She knew that you reacted badly to the gift. How would she know that?"

"I didn't see her. I swear I didn't. I know you probably don't believe me after everything, but I promise you. I drove around, headed up in her neighbourhood but couldn't go through with it. I drove to the docks and spent some time on the boat."

"How did she know that you were angry?"

"I called her. I told her to back off and leave us alone. I warned her that if she ever pulled a stunt like that again that I would fucking make sure that she fucking regrets it. When I hung up I answered my calls, Kate flew at me for not picking up and told me what happened. I came straight home."

I wriggle my arms out of his hold completely, heading back up to the house, slower this time - Christian walking at my pace to my left. Heading back inside I walk back into the kitchen, heating up some water for a cup of tea. I hear him scrape one of the stools along the floor, slipping into one of them and slamming his elbows down on the counter.

"None of that explains the painting in my office. Why did she send me one?"

"I don't know." I turn to face him, leaning up against the counter behind me. "Anger maybe? When I found out about her coming into your office I read her the riot act."

"Did you see her?"

"No. I left her a message. I called the lawyer just after and explained the situation to them, they said she did nothing wrong because the order wasn't in place at the time. We could sue her for harassment but nothing more."

I return to making my tea, once finished heading out of the kitchen and back upstairs to dress.

"Baby, are we okay now?" Christian coming up behind me, leaning down to my ear and breathing on me.

"No." I turn sharply, spinning on my heel quicker than expected. "No we are not okay."

"But I've told you everything!"

"I had to press you for it. You only told me because I wasn't talking to you and we had the mother of all rows over it!"

"I don't understand Ana, I've told you what happened!"

"It's not enough Christian. I'm pissed that she's still around, I'm furious that you've talked to her behind my back, but I'm fucking beyond furious and hurt that you kept all of this from me!" I scream at him, my throat aching and sore. "I shouldn't have to wind you up and wait for an argument to get the truth from you."

"I was trying to protect you."

"How?! How exactly are you protecting me by lying to me? No matter what you say, you lied to me the moment you decided to keep all this to yourself, leaving me in the dark once again! I thought we were over all of that?"

"I just thought that it would be better if I just kept it away from you. You're pregnant Ana, you don't need all of this hanging over you." He creeps forward slightly.

"No, what I don't need is for my husband to keep things from me. How am I supposed to trust you when you do this all the time?"

"Ana -"

I raise my arms in protest, backing up from him.

"Christian, I can't just forget all this because you finally opened up to me. It's not going to just wash away. i need some time and right now we need to push this aside and get ready."

"What for?"

"We're heading over to your parents for thanksgiving and they shouldn't have to be party to this." I turn, heading up the staircase, and getting away from him.

"How can I make this up to you?"

"Give me time."


	37. Chapter 37

**Disclaimer: The characters portrayed in this story are those in E L James's Fifty Shades Trilogy, therefore they remain her property. The plot and themes in this story are those of the author. The author is in no way affiliated with James. No copyright infringement intended.**

**Next chapter for all you lovely people! The next one will be posted later tonight - well, depending on where you are. UK time atm - 19:30 :) **

**Much love to you all! Enjoy! :) x**

* * *

"Can I come in?"

I stumble out of the closet, hearing a knock on the door. Reaching the edge of the walk-in closet divide to the bedroom, Christian slowly opens the previously shut door of our bedroom, leaving it ajar and waiting for my answer.

"Christian, this is our bedroom. You don't have to ask to come in."

"I didn't want to intrude." He whispers, opening the door fully and stepping in. He pushes it to before standing there, unsure of himself.

"I'm pretty sure you've already seen everything I have to offer." I call back to him, heading back into the closet, destined on finding something to wear. What the hell should I wear? Is it a formal thing - dress and heels? Or can I get away with jeans, t-shirt and flats? Christian hasn't exactly told me what thanksgiving is like at his parents house, I have no idea what to expect.

I rummage through the racks of clothes I have hanging from my side of the closet. I miss our closet at Escala and how our clothes lay side by side, touching each other. Sometimes I would take out something and it would smell of him; it would be a small reminder of him every time I moved and caught a breeze, bringing the smell up to my nose, but in this closet his clothes hang on the other side, a collection of dark colours - black, grey and navy suits. The only colour provided by his ties or t-shirts. Always a crisp, white shirt for Mr Grey. I stroke my fingers over the fabrics of the many items of clothing - silks, satins, cotton and linen. I pause, feeling Christian brush past me, making his way over to his side of the small room.

"What should I wear?" I turn to face him.

He stills, swivelling on his heel to face me. "Wear whatever you want. You'll look beautiful no matter what."

I blush; there's something about the way he compliments me - normally I reject any sort of attention, deeming it unnecessary and untrue, but the way he offers it, it's almost enough for me to believe him.

"How does it normally work? At your parents?"

"What do you mean?" His eyes twisting, confused at my question.

"Is it a formal thing? Do I need to dress up? Or is it relaxed? Jeans sort of affair?"

"Honestly Ana, wear whatever you want -"

"No Christian! I want to fit in! Just help me. Please!" I ramble, becoming flustered. _Considering everything, you are getting worried over this?_ My subconscious lurking in the corner, shifting through a pile of underwear and throwing out all the non-sexy maternity ones. _Get your priorities right!_

"Okay! Okay." He repeats softer the second time, moving towards me and reaching out to my clothes. "Mia's normally the only one who goes all out. Mom just throws on a dress, usually blue for some unknown reason - something that isn't too special. Maybe this?" He turns back to me, holding up a navy blue and white striped dress.

"That's not baby friendly." I shake my head, knowing full well that I'd need to be cut out of it before the end of the day.

He regards it passively in his hand, fiddling with the fabric and working it out for himself. Smiling, he places it back on the rack.

"Are these one's new?" Pointing to the end of the shelf.

I nod my head, watching him move around and inspect each item. I like watching him move around, but it brings me back to the contract - how he'd choose what I'd wear - this is different, I remind myself. I was with Caroline picking these out. I picked them out. They are _my_ clothes.

Holding out a pale blue cotton dress, I stare at him as he looks at it more closely before turning back to me, a smile across his otherwise somber face.

"I like that one." I mumble, reaching out to take it. His face lightens briefly, happy that I approved - as if he needed my approval. As if he needed to prove himself?

Christian smiles once more, handing it over to me and moving back to his side. I follow him with my eyes, watching him take out a pair boxer briefs from the dresser and a pair of grey slacks. We dress in silence, with our backs turned to one another, but I risk turning my head to catch a glimpse of him, my heart softening slightly. _Why do you do this?_

I underestimated how long it would take to get ready, Christian pacing the floor trying his best to be patient as I fumble around. When I'm done he holds out his hand to me, but I move past him, keeping my head low and leaving the room. I dread having to sit there with his family and pretend that everything is fine, after all I'm like an open book - easy to read, my feelings and thoughts clear on my face. How am I supposed to hide this?

Reaching the door to our house, I move aside, allowing Christian to open it for me - giving him something to do. I catch him in the corner of my eye, glancing down at his BlackBerry before shoving it in his pocket. Part of freezes, _what is it?_ Dread fills me wondering if it's from her. I have no idea how many messages or calls have taken place between them, or if they're still in contact.

"It's Elliot." He mutters, closing the door behind us and leading me over to the SUV sitting on the drive. Taylor and Gail are off, visiting his daughter, Sophie. Christian agreed to us going over to his parents alone, only calling for security if necessary. Everyone is entitled to a break.

"Everyone's already at the house." He answers my question before I even think it, helping me into the car and shutting the door silently, pacing around to the other side.

"This early?" I exclaiming, glancing at the built-in clock on the dashboard. 9:28AM.

"It's tradition. We have dinner early and Mom likes us to all be there to help. Mom cooks. Dad carves. Us kids do whatever the fuck she tells us."

I break out into a smile, thinking of Christian being forced into helping - though not with the cooking, definitely not the cooking!

Through the rest of our journey we sit in an awkward silence, neither of us knowing what to say to each other. Where would we start? It wouldn't be a good idea to start discussing this again, just before 'family' time. This is going to be awful and tiresome.

It take Christian little over half an hour to manoeuvre the traffic down the interstate, bringing us to his parents house in Bellevue. He pulls the car in beside Kate's Mercedes. Turning off the engine we sit quiet for a few moments before he interrupts the tension.

"Ana, is this what you want?"

"Yes. This is your family, we're not going to let them down because we're in the middle of something. We just need to put on a brave face and make it through today, but this isn't over Christian." I unlock my seatbelt, opening the door and climbing out myself.

"You need time. I understand that, but they are your family as well."

"Good."

Christian outstretches his hand for me to take, moving forward towards the front door. I'm in two minds as what to do. I don't know if I want to - yes, I want to but I'm still so angry at him and I don't want him to think that this is nothing! But on the other hand, we need to act as if nothing has happened. _Pull yourself together and get on with it already_!

Taking a deep breath and closing my eyes I force my hand into his, allowing his fingers to knit through mine. His hand is warm and soothing; almost enough to take away the pain, but nowhere near enough to wipe my mind.

"There you are! Jeez, we've been waiting ages for you to arrive!" Mia shouts at us from the door, pounding over to us and launching her arms around me. I pull my free arm around her, giving in to the welcome hug, unable to get my hand out of his. "How's my two favourite people in the world?"

"Fine." Christian and I blurt out at the same time.

Pulling away, Mia looks at us suspiciously. _God, don't tell me it's going to be like this?_

"Christian, as much as I love you, I was talking about Ana and this little guy!" Breaking out into a grin she lowers herself to be level with my bump, rubbing her hand over it. "How is he?"

"Good. You know Mia, we don't know that it's a boy?"

"Of course, but Kate said how you were sure that he's a he, and we've all got bets on it. I'm guessing boy, 7 pounds and four days late."

"Thanks!" I squeak louder than expected.

"What?! Mom said first babies are almost always late."

I squeeze his hand a little, scared at the thought of that. It's hard enough waiting another 5 months or so at least, but the idea of being overdue scares me. I want him here.

Looking down at me he smiles, comforting me and giving me that 'don't worry' look. I believe him at first, until that voice comes back. Her voice, ringing through my ears and stirring it up again. Is she ever going to go away?

"You ready?" He whispers to me as we reach the door.

"Just remember to smile."

* * *

"No, dear. You sit down and put your feet up. The boys can help me." Grace waves at me from the kitchen. I've hovered around most of the morning, unsure of what I can do to help - needing something to do. Each time I attempted to do something - chop or clean everyone gave that look. I feel as if I'm on a loop reminding them over and over that I'm pregnant, not ill.

"I'd really like to help." I press her again, fiddling with some place settings on the counter, ready to be taken into the dining room. "Please let me do something. I'm feeling redundant."

"Okay then, why don't you and girls lay the table. Everything's already there on the side." Grace calls over, looking up briefly from the stack of vegetables she's dicing. Carrick is lingering behind her, passing her various things. Elliot and Christian standing over in the corner waiting for the next order whilst trying to keep out of the way.

"Thanks."

I gather some of the place settings in my arms, piling them up on each other.

"Here let me." Christian jumping to my side and taking them off me.

"I can do it." I fire back at him. I didn't mean to snap, only realising that I had when he turned to look at his parents behind me. "I'm fine." I force a smile, easing the mood and lowering my voice, though it's not enough to change his expression.

"Ana, please?"

"Okay." I huff, handing them over to him and walking out of the kitchen. _Try to not make a scene!_

I walk a few paces in front of him, entering the dining room. Kate and Mia are already in here, going over some ideas for the garden - something about a marquee and roses. I slow my pace reaching the table, waiting for Christian to hand over the linen and leave me alone.

He walks quickly to my side, smiling at me, and placing them down in front of me. His fingers trace up my arms as he pulls back. My skin tingling from his touch, and my breathing halted as he stops just before my elbow, removing his fingers - leaving me wanting him. I want his touch.

"I'll do anything. Just please, say you love me?" He whispers in my ear, edging closer to me; teasing me with his tongue.

"Christian -" I mouth, growing uneasy. "Don't do this."

"Baby..."

"I said no! I asked you to give me time, so please respect that."

I slide away from him, moving around the table with the linen in my hands. I try to not look up at him, focusing on the task in hand, but I can't help but glance at him. Fisting his hands into his hair, exhaling loudly and cursing under his breath he sprints off into the kitchen and out of view. I feel like I've been punched. I don't want to do this to him, but how else can I deal with this? How am I supposed to try to work out how I really feel about this if he's clouding my judgment? I still love him. I will always love him. That's what makes this harder.

"Hey, what's wrong?" I'm pulled from my reverie by Kate, lightly grabbing my arm to face her.

"What? Nothing's wrong."

"Cut the crap Steele, I know when something's wrong. Spill!" Raising her eyebrow at me and staring me straight in the eyes. She looks her usual self - perfect blonde hair in waves around her shoulder, wearing a white bandage dress, hugging her curves perfectly and emphasising her cleavage. I know that Elliot will approve!

"There's nothing to tell." I fire back my pre-planned answer, making a start on laying the table. "And I'm not Steele anymore. You know that pisses him off."

"How cares, he's pissed off anyway. You both are. Now tell me what's wrong!"

"Kate, please, just drop it." I look up at her, slightly higher in her heels compared to my flats.

"Come on, just tell me what it is and I'll drop it. Pinky swear." Grinning at me, she holds up her little finger. My mouth falls open into a smile for a moment before returning back to its previous hard-line.

"We had an argument yesterday afternoon. We haven't really spoken yet. This morning we spoke a little but there's still a lot to discuss."

"How bad of an argument are we talking? Screaming and shouting, leading to hot sex afterwards? Or lovers tiff that is going be over in minutes?"

"Locking myself away in the bathroom telling him to fuck off, refusing to speak to him and sleeping alone." I mumble.

"Fuck! What has that bastard done now?" Kate snaps, shouting at me.

"Kate!"

"Sorry!" Apologising; noticing that Mia is in earshot. "But seriously, what has he done?"

"How do you know that he's to blame? I might have done something."

"Come on, we both know that's not the case. Any how, he has a face like a smacked behind. He only looks like that when he's in trouble with you."

"He lied to me. He's been keeping things me and I finally got the truth out of him." I try to keep my voice down, making sure that Mia won't catch wind of what we're discussing.

"Lied to you about what?"

I glance down at my hands, running my thumb over the fabric between my fingers. I feel bad for talking about this, having made the point of saying that no one should know, but I need to tell someone.

"Mrs Robinson."

"Fucking Grey!"


	38. Chapter 38

**Disclaimer: The characters portrayed in this story are those in E L James's Fifty Shades Trilogy, therefore they remain her property. The plot and themes in this story are those of the author. The author is in no way affiliated with James. No copyright infringement intended.**

**As promised! :)**

**You've gotta love Kate, right?**

**Enjoy, and much love! :) x**

* * *

I struggle to keep up with her as she storms away from my side, making her way over to the kitchen. I stumble a little, over my own feet, trying to reach her side. _Why did I tell her?_

"Kate!" I snap, still trying to keep my voice down. I'm surprised at how fast she can move whilst wearing five-inch heels, and a dress that would make even one of America's Next Top Model's walk like a penguin.

"That fucking bastard!" I can hear her curse, knowing that her face is twisting into the Kavanagh 'bull-dog chewing a wasp' look that I've seen on few occasions - usually where one of her exes were concerned.

"Kate!" I shout louder this time, finally getting to her side as she barges through to the kitchen.

Both Christian and Elliot jolt their heads over to us as we enter, stunned by the outburst; Grace and Carrick nowhere to be seen.

I immediately turn my head to Christian, trying to give him a signal of some sort whilst hoping that Kate won't make a scene. He looks at her indifferently, as if this is normal behaviour. It soon dawns on me that this won't be the first time she's lost her temper around him.

"Grey!" Her voice is sharp, deep and full of rage.

"What's wrong babe?" Elliot climbs down from the counter he was perched on, next to Christian who's leaning against it.

"Not you. Him." She snaps, spitting out the words to Christian. I move closer to her, getting a clear view of her face - pale, almost the colour of her dress, and her green eyes narrow.

"Kate, leave it." I mumble, pulling at her arm. I need to get her out of the kitchen. I need to get her away from Christian.

"No Ana. How am I supposed to fucking stand there -"

"Kate!"

"No, he needs to fucking know!" She lunges forward, heading straight over to him. I freeze, not knowing what to do. I've never seen her this angry.

In a matter of seconds, Elliot launches himself in front of her, creating a human shield. I focus my eyes to Christian, standing there staring down at Kate, making matters worse - I can see the frustration building up in him.

"Whoa! Babe, out!" Elliot grabs her by the arms, walking her backwards out of the kitchen. "Now!" He talks down to her, interrupting her before she could get out another word.

"No, let me have him!" Kate struggles in his arms, trying to twist around him.

"Babe, I don't give a fuck what this is over but you're not starting something now. Not before I've eaten."

I can see her fall loose in his arms, Elliot working his charm on her and continuing to walk her out of the room, passing me and giving me a 'what the fuck' glance. I flicker my eyes over to Christian, looking over to him through my lashes, his face unreadable. I can't tell whether he's shocked, pissed off, fucking furious or all three combined. Shaking my head I leave, heading out to find Kate.

I find her sitting down on one of the chairs around the dining room table, Elliot kneeling down in front of her. She's crumbling in front of him, as if he's working some sort of spell on her. It seems weird to see this on the outside; it makes you think of how people view you when you're the one caught up in the moment, exchanging loving looks with your better half. _Better half? You've got to be kidding right? _

"Will you please calm down babe? Mom and Dad hate drama on family days like this. Can you do it for me?" He stares sweetly at her.

"I'll try. But if he starts -"

"Okay! I'll have a word." He holds his hands up in protest, clearly not the only person who hates being on the receiving end of her wrath.

As he passes me he squeezes my forearm, call back 'laters' to us. I roll my eyes at that infamous phrase that has taken over the family.

"Kate."

"Oh Ana, don't okay!" She waves her hand at me.

"You're telling me to stop? Kate, you almost attacked my husband!"

"Well I didn't, okay! It's not as if he doesn't deserve it!"

I walk around to face her, pulling out the chair next to her and sitting down, adjusting my dress as I go.

"Kate, you can't do that."

"Ana, I warned him. I told him that if he ever hurt again, I'd fucking rip his balls off and feed them to a hungry rottweiler!"

"I'm pretty sure you said you'd wear them as earrings?" I narrow my eyes at her, remembering her very vivid account of what she would do to him.

"Ah, I'm saving them for Elliot. He's bound to fuck up eventually."

I break out into a smile. I hope Elliot realises what he is letting himself into!

"Ana, you're my best friend and we're gonna be sisters okay? I hate seeing you like this!" Reaching out she grabs hold of my hands, cupping them in hers. "I'm sorry I snapped, but he's fucking deserves it. If you're not gonna fly at him, someone has to!"

"Kate, there's more than one way to get through to him. Besides, I would like it if he still has the ability to talk, I still need to discuss this with him at some point!"

"Tell me what happened. Everything. No missing deets, you hear?" Kate flashes her teeth at me as her lips curl up into a grin.

I've missed having time with her; I've missed her fiery temper and her ability to turn everything into a joke. I just wish it wasn't under these circumstances, or over this topic.

* * *

I finish laying down the last place setting, Kate coming up behind me and putting down the cutlery - the way we have for all seven seats. I was expecting Mia to bring Ethan to dinner, until she went on to say that he had already made plans with friends - something that has almost destroyed Mia. It's obviously that she wants things between them to progress quicker, and even more obvious that Ethan is still hesistant. Kate launched an attack on her brother, threatening to deal with him at some point if he continues to mess her around.

"So, she's been fucking around with him?" She turns back to me, wanting to know more.

"No. There is no fucking going on!" I bite back, my words full of venom.

"No, what I meant was, she's been sticking her big, fat nose into your business again, and that bastard of a husband of yours is allowing her to do so?"

I disregard her statement, frankly not knowing how to come back with a response. I have no answer for her.

"Kate, please just keep out of this. There are two people in my marriage, me and Christian." I hold on to her hand, making sure that she looks me in the eyes.

"You seem to be forgetting the elusive third person in your marriage. A certain whore called Elena."

I beg Kate to cool it, for everyone else's sake, convincing her I'm not doing this for Christian's benefit - I want him to realise what he's done, and me crawling into his lap isn't going to get that through to his thick skull.

Fleeting back into the kitchen, I'm ushered out straight away by Mia - dressed in a stunning canary yellow babydoll dress and matching sandals. The others follow close behind, carrying out the food with them.

"Ana, you're sitting here." Mia points me to the far left seat, pulling out the chair for me so I can slide in.

"I'm sitting here." Kate jumps in, pulling out the single chair beside me. The one reserved for Christian.

"Kate, you're supposed to sit over there, in the middle." Mia pouts, pointing to the chair opposite us, in the line of three. "Me on the one side and Elliot on the other."

"Ana wants me to sit next to her. Don't you?" I glance at her, catching her giving me a scowl, a warning not to change my mind. I simply nod my head, listening to Mia huffing as she moves over to the side, settling into the end seat opposite me.

I watch as the others emerge into the room, Carrick moving to sit on the right, nearest to Kate, and Grace positioning herself into the seat adjacent to mine. The head of the table.

I stare solemnly as Christian settles down into the seat opposite Kate, his face full of pain. Part of me thinking that he wanted to sit next to me; needed to sit next to me.

"What the fuck?!" Elliot shouts, noticing the only single chair is between Mia and Christian.

"Elliot!" Grace yells at him, sitting up straight in her chair and scowling at him as he walks around the table. "We didn't bring you up with that sort of disgusting language."

"Sorry. But seriously, why do I always get moved?" Pulling out the chair with one hand, he slumps down into it, with the gracefulness of an elephant.

"Kate wanted to sit next to Ana." Mia explains, a slight venom in her voice at having the seating plan changed without her consent.

"This isn't fair. I should be allowed to sit next to my fiancée!" I look up from my lap, Elliot throwing his napkin down on his legs and slamming his hand down on the table.

"Enough." I turn my head to Carrick, standing at the end of the table, preparing to carve the Turkey.

Immediately everyone falls silent, clear that he means it and is not to be messed with. Everyone sitting there like a five year who's been caught with their hand in the cookie jar. We all watch in silence as he carves the bird and starts plating up the slices, the other components of the dish scattered in front of us.

"There you go dear." Grace hands me my plate, settling it down in front of me.

Looking down at the meat on my plate I feel the bile rising in my throat. The smell and look of it twisting my stomach and making my insides do somersaults. Closing my eyes makes it worse, my sense of smell heightened. I push my hand up to my face, covering my mouth and holding back the vomit.

"Is something wrong darling?" Grace reaches out, stroking my arm.

"No." I stutter, risking projectile vomit to reassure her.

Christian leaps from his chair and saunters over to me quickly, lifting the plate from the table and swapping it with his own, an empty plate - one that Carrick had yet to dish up.

"Ana can't eat that." He says to Grace, looking up at him with concern. "The baby doesn't like poultry."

"Oh! Darling I hadn't realised!"

"Don't worry about it." I finally blurt out, quashing the bile back down, content that the Turkey is out of my immediate environment.

"Are you okay sweetheart?"

"Yes, I'm fine as long as I don't have it in front of me. Blip really hates Chicken and Turkey." I rub my fingers over my stomach, taking a few long breaths to compose myself.

"Did you want me to get you anything else?" Grace rises from the table, but I hold my hand up to her.

"No! Honestly, I'm fine. I'll stick to the vegetables." I smile sweetly to her until she settles back down.

We take it in turns to dish out our own food, the delicious smells from the various components masking the disgusting wreak of the Turkey. I smile to myself as everyone makes sure that I've helped myself first, all of them now making the point that I'm eating for two. I can hardly contain myself, waiting patiently to say Grace before the meal. As soon as we've said 'ahem' I lift my fork, digging in. Christian smiles as he watches me devour my plate. He always likes it when I'm eating.

"Elliot, have you called Reverend Walsh about setting the date?" Grace asks him in between bites.

"No, I'll call him next week." He replies with a mouth full of food. Sometimes I'm surprised that him and Christian are even related. I mean, I know they're not biological related, but they grew up with the same influence from both Carrick and Grace, yet they are so different. Complete polar opposites.

"Speaking of which -" Kate chimes in, placing her knife and fork down and wiping her mouth with the corner of her napkin. "I was thinking that we should write our own vows?"

"I guess, it's what these two did." Elliot shrugs in agreement, nodding at bot Christian and I, clearly only interested in filling his stomach.

"Yeah, I think that we should base them on the idea of openness. You know, how in marriage you should tell each other everything, have no secrets. No lies."

I choke on my mouthful of potatoes and she goes on, staring blankly at Christian.

"Don't you think that it's an important part of marriage? Surely you must have trust, otherwise, what's the point?"

I turn my head towards her, scowling at her and begging her to shut up with my eyes, but she ignores me and continues to stare at Christian. His fingers turning white as he grips hard on to his cutlery, and his face cold and blank. I can see him building up and the anger making its way through his veins.

"Kate, stop." Elliot puts down his own fork, sensing where this is going.

I look around at everyone, Carrick and Grace's eyes fleeting between Kate and Christian, whilst Mia sits there confused, looking over to me for assurance.

"No Elliot. Christian, don't you think it's good to be honest with your wife? Instead of lying to her?" Her voices rises an octave, her eyes fixated on his as she tilts her head in a condescending manner.

Leaning over to her I fire into her. "Kate, I asked you to leave it."

"No, I won't leave it. I told him if she hurt you again he would have me to deal with."

"Kate, I don't think now is the time or place for this." I glance over to Grace, in her desperate attempt to calm the escalating tension around the table.

"Go on Christian, tell them what happened. Tell them how you've been lying to Ana. To your WIFE!"

"Fuck off Kate." Christian spits out, throwing down his fork and bolting upright in his chair. _Shit!_

"Whoa! Bro, calm down yeah?"

"Fuck off Elliot. Can't you keep your girlfriend under control?"

"No one controls me Christian. I'm not like Ana, I won't allow someone like you to fuck with my head. Does it make you feel good to sit there and see her hurting like this? All because you can't keep away from that bitch?!"

I twist in my chair, listening to the vow developing as Kate shouts over the table to Christian. Both of them staring with rage at one another. _Please, stop it!_

"Christian, what is Kate talking about?" Grace steps in, rising from her chair, throwing down her napkin - the meal effectively ruined.

"Grace, didn't you know? He's been contacting Elena. He's been talking to her behind Ana's back and then lied to her about it." Matching her Kate stands, copying Grace's actions.

"Christian?"

"Will you all just fuck off! None of you know the truth." He fires back at them, slamming his hands down on the table, knocking over his wine glass.

"Do you even know what the truth is? Cause you sure as hell aren't telling Ana the truth!" Kate fires into him once again. I throw my fork down and push my plate away, feeling sick and caught in the crossfire.

"Kate, keep the fuck out of this. This is between me and Ana."

I can feel the tears welling up in my eyes, the first falling slowly down my cheeks as they continue to shout and scream at one another. I stare down at my fingers knotted in my lap as Carrick and Elliot try to defuse the situation, Mia comforting Grace who's pacing the floor chastising Christian for going against his word.

_This is my fault._ Why the hell did I tell Kate? Of all people I knew she wouldn't be able to stop!

The tears continue to fall no matter how hard I try to fight them. I try to wipe them away as they fall, but it's like a waterfall - a continuous flow of water dripping down my cheeks and falling to my legs, creating a small pool on my dress. The flood gates open and no one able to close them.

It's as if I'm not here. All of them ignoring me and fighting one another.

"Just stop it!" I scream out, unable to take anymore. "Just stop!"

I leap up from my chair as all of their heads turn to face me, frozen and finally silent. My chair hits the ground behind me, the crash loud and unnerving.

"All of you!" I sob, my breathing erratic and heavy. The more I attempt to calm myself the more het up I get; a vicious cycle.

"Ana -" Kate turns to face me, walking closer.

"No!"

I run off, my feet taking me as fast as they can. I hear them screaming after me as I bolt out of the room.

Why did I tell her? I've just ruined everything.

I just keep running, my brain not concerned where I'm going because my body seems to know where I need to be. I leap up the staircase, taking the stairs two at a time and launch myself into the room I've been hunting. Christian's bedroom.

I can hear them shouting downstairs, a wash of my name and curse words. Slamming the door I'm able to block them out.

Running my fingers through my hair I begin to panic.

_What have I done?_ I shouldn't have dragged them in on it. If I'd have kept my fucking mouth shut none of this would have happened!

"Fuck!" I kick out at bed, injuring my foot in the process but I continue to pace, the pain not registering in my mind.

_What if this is it?_

What if Christian decides to walk away because I was too fucking stupid to open up to Kate instead of him? What if he just walks away from me and the baby? My reoccuring dream slowly becoming a reality before my eyes.

It's all my fault.

I fall to the floor, my legs giving way underneath me. Everything in front of me starts to wobble and twist, my eyes growing heavy as if a blind is being closed around me.

Everything turning to black as my head hits the soft carpet beneath me.


	39. Chapter 39

**Disclaimer: The characters portrayed in this story are those in E L James's Fifty Shades Trilogy, therefore they remain her property. The plot and themes in this story are those of the author. The author is in no way affiliated with James. No copyright infringement intended.**

**Little memo - the piece Christian is playing is 'Sad Romance' by Thao Nguyen Xanh, the piano version. Just in case you wanted to give it a listen - one of my favourites! :)**

**Much love to you all and I hope you enjoy the chapter! More on its way! :) x**

* * *

"Oh, my sweet girl..."

I stir, her soothing and appeasing voice a sweet melody in my ears. Flickering my eyes open I see her, cradling me in her arms and rocking me gently, my head resting against her waist.

"Ana?" Looking down at me through her glistening eyes she smiles at me. "How are you feeling sweetheart?"

"Hm..." I struggle to sit up, needing her support to get me up and to prop myself against the headboard like her. "I don't know."

"Does anything hurt?"

"No, I'm just exhausted... Completely exhausted." I sigh, stretching my legs out in front of me.

"I'm not surprised dear, you've had a horrid couple of days. Christian explained everything to us."

"I'm so sorry Grace. I never meant for any of this to happen."

"Ana!" Grabbing my hands she wraps her long fingers around them, stroking the backs of my hands lovingly. "None of this is your fault. Do not blame yourself."

"It is my fault. If I had kept my mouth shut, and kept mine and Christian's business between us, everything would've been fine."

"No it wouldn't. The problem would still be there, whether you told one person or a thousand. Quite frankly I'm glad that you told Katherine." Her voice changes as she mentions Kate - deep and an undertone of anger.

"I'm so sorry it ruined dinner."

"Ah, that is nothing for you to concern yourself with dear. Both Carrick and I have spoken to Katherine and Christian." Grace continues to caress my hands in her soothing, motherly way.

"What happened? You know, after I left?" I hesitate to ask, wondering whether I actually want to know.

"Both of them came after you, finding you in here on the floor. I came up straight away with my work things, thankfully there was nothing seriously wrong with you. I had to kick them both out of the room to treat you."

"Why?!" I exclaim, confused.

"It started again. Katherine blaming Christian for what happened to you, though she fails to realise that she is the one who caused the trouble this evening. That girl really does test my patience!"

"That's Kate for you." I shrug, I'm used to her behaviour, but this afternoon was different.

"I wish she was more like you darling. You are our angel."

"I don't know about that." I flush, lowering my head and trying to quash the crimson spreading across my cheeks.

"Anastasia -" I look over to her, raising my head and meeting her calm blue eyes. "You saved our son. You brought him home to us."

"He did all the work himself. I just forget sometimes that he's new to all of this as well. I look at him and see how smart and strong he is and forget, as if I expect him to just know everything."

"No one can blame you for that dear! Hell, we all know how difficult Christian can be, and after finding out what he's been keeping from you - well, needless to say his father had very stern words with him!"

"It wasn't his fault -" I tug my hands out of hers to push my hair out of my face. "He only kept it from me because he knows how I feel about her. I know that, I just... I can't stand the idea of him talking to her."

"Christian knows he's done wrong. He spent the best part of two hours with his father, sobbing his heart out, scared that he's going to lose you."

I jerk my head, hurt by her confession. "He's been crying?"

"What he did was inexcusable but, Ana... He knows he has to make it up to you, please... Please, be patient with him?"

"Grace, he means the world to me. He is my world. I don't want any of this anymore, I thought I did... I thought I wanted him to suffer and feel as bad as I did but I can't, it hurts me too much -" I trail off, my words stumbling out through my hitched and erratic breathing.

"Oh Ana, I know it hurts, it hurts all of us to see him this way. I would do anything to take away the pain from both of you."

"Any chance you could give me Elena's address so I can hire a hitman?" I giggle quietly, Grace breaking out into a grin.

"That very same thought crossed my mind several times over the past few months!" Pulling me closer to her she takes me in her arms, embracing me. Her light rose perfume tickling my nose; a sweet and homely smell.

"Thank you Grace." I hug her tight, snuggling into her and taking in her palliative scent.

"What for?" Questioning me as she pulls her head to the side. "I've done nothing."

"For welcoming me into your home. Grace, you're more than just Christian Mom - you're my Mom as well."

Squeezing me tight into her chest I can feel her gasping, hearing her sob quietly. "Ana, you are my daughter. I see no difference between you and Mia." I nuzzle her, trying to hold back my own tears at her kind words. I'm so lucky to have her in my life.

"Now, I need to go and call Elliot and see what's happening."

"Why? What's happened?"

"He's taken her home. I will not have World War Three kicking off in my home whilst my daughter and grandchild are resting upstairs!"

"I'll deal with Kate myself. Where's Christian?" I shift, moving out of her hold.

"He's locked himself away in the music room. He won't talk to any of us." Her face drops, she hates seeing him this way.

"Can I go and see him?"

"Of course, as long as you feel up to it."

* * *

I descend down the stairs slowly, gripping on to the banister to support myself, feeling weak and tired from the events of this afternoon. I have no idea what time it is, or how long I have been upstairs in Christian's bed, my only reference being the dark sky outside.

Grace headed down first, leaving me to freshen up in the en suite before making my way down, in hopes of finding my husband.

The hall is quiet, the only noise coming from the reception room - Carrick and Mia deep in conversation. I head straight to the end of the corridor, trying to find the music room I have never seen. I vaguely remember Christian telling me that it is at the far end of the house, away from the 'public' areas of the home.

Walking past the various doors I start to hear the music flooding out from the end door, on the left. The sound of a piano quiet at first until I reach the door in question, becoming slightly louder but still evidence that the room is sound-proofed. I guess it makes sense considering all three of them were taught an instrument.

Opening the door slowly I peek my head through the door, seeing him sitting at the piano in the corner of the room, facing the window. His head is low, fixated on his fingers trailing the keys and producing the melody flooding the room. I've never heard this piece before, but it's similar to one's I have - filled with sadness and heartache. This piece is slightly different to others I've heard, the pace slightly quicker but still not enough to change the somber tone. It tugs at my heart to hear him play such painful songs.

Closing the door behind me I try to keep quiet, trying not to scare him seeing as he hasn't noticed I'm here. His fingers fleet around the keys with ease, playing from memory. I watch as his chest rises and falls in sync with the piece, mimicking each minute change.

I creep closer to him, walking on my toes having left my shoes upstairs. Reaching his side I stand behind him, watching him continue to stroke the keys and add to the music filling the air. Leaning over him I wrap my arms around him, resting my chin on his shoulder, allowing my fingers to trace his arms. He stills feeling me, the music coming to an abrupt halt. I can feel him panic for a second, until he realised it was me standing there. Although he is more accepting of touch, it's still only mine that he accepts irrevocably.

"Hi." I mumble, nuzzling into his neck and lightly kissing his cool skin.

"Ana!" Swivelling around he grabs me, lowering me into his arms and sitting me in his lap. "Are you okay?" Running his fingers across my face, tracing my neck and along my collarbone.

"I'm fine."

"I was so worried. Mom wouldn't allow me to come in to see you, Kate put a stop to that by -"

"I know, she told me!" I interject, lowering my head to lean against his chest. "I'm sorry."

"Ana, there is nothing for you to apologise for! I should be the one grovelling at your feet for forgiveness, after everything I have put you through!"

"Christian, I dragged Kate in on this, if I'd have kept my fucking mouth shut none of this would have happened!"

"No, baby, you did what you needed to do - you needed someone to confined in and after everything I've put you through, I don't blame you for not coming to me." Lightly kissing the top of my head, he takes a deep breath. "I'm sorry for what I've done to you."

"Christian, I know why you didn't tell me. I know that in your mind you thought it was better if I didn't know, and I supposed it would have been if she didn't drag me in on it."

"Ana, listen to me, I will tell you everything you need to know. Whatever it is, I'll sit here all year if I have to. I'm never keeping anything from you again. These past two days have been the worst in my life."

"I'm sorry I let it get this far. I just wanted you to know what I was feeling -"

Holding me close to his chest I use his shirt to wipe my face, clearing the few tears that have fallen.

"I thought I was going to lose you. I knew that you were angry and upset with me, but when you asked me not to sleep with you I knew then how much I hurt you. And now, having Kate, Mom _and_ Dad all on my case, it hit me full-blown in the stomach."

"I'm sorry you had to go through that."

"Will you stop apologising?" I can feel the smirk creeping across his face. "Now, how are you feeling? You scared me earlier."

"I'm fine. I guess it all just got too much, hearing you all arguing and fighting."

"I wish you weren't party to it."

"It wasn't you, Kate started it and she kept pushing you and sticking her nose in! I asked her to leave it!"

"Baby -" Christian reaches up and cups my chin, pulling my head to him. His eyes wide and understanding. "She only did it because she loves you. As much as she irritates the fuck out of me, she's your friend and she stuck up for you. Whether you wanted it or not, she was doing what I try to do - protect you and keep you happy."

"She went the wrong way about it."

"I know baby, but we all make mistakes. She looked sad when she was leaving and she made a half-hearted apology to my parents."

"Did she say sorry to you?"

Looking down at me he raises his eyebrow, giving me that 'are you kidding' look.

"I'll talk to her." I whisper, reaching up with my fingers to stroke his cheek. He closes his eyes as I touch him, relishing in my contact.

"Oh, I've missed you."

"I'm here." Pulling him down to me I bring my lips to his, sparks pushing through me. "It's over. All of this."

"Not quite. I still want to tell you everything. I want you to know everything that has happened."

"Christian, you really don't have to. You've told me enough, I don't need anymore than that." I kiss him again, feeling him smile beneath my lips.

"I love you Mrs Grey, but I need to. I need to do this."

"Okay, if you need to. But can I ask one thing?" I pull away, staring him in the eyes.

"Anything?"

"Can we talk over something to eat? Blip's angry that I skipped a proper meal!" We both break into a smile, our hands finding their way to my bump, swollen under my dress.

"Of course, anything for my beautiful, delectable and perfect wife, and our stunning Blip."


	40. Chapter 40

**Disclaimer: The characters portrayed in this story are those in E L James's Fifty Shades Trilogy, therefore they remain her property. The plot and themes in this story are those of the author. The author is in no way affiliated with James. No copyright infringement intended.**

* * *

"Come on, up with you already."

I pout at him as he tries to shift me from his lap, clinging to him like a sweater.

"Ana, you need food. Come on."

"Okay! I just wanted to savour the moment." I kiss his cheek before stepping down, smoothing my dress over my hips.

Taking me by the hand he escorts me through the hall, passing his parents and Mia in one of the living rooms. I smile as we glide past them, Grace staring at me with wide eyes and a beaming grin across her face.

Entering into the kitchen he leaves me at the counter, walking around to the refrigerator and sorting through the contents.

"Hm - I actually have no idea if there is anything here you'll like." He mutters to himself, his head in the fridge rummaging through the various ingredients. "I forgot they have a chef. I prefer having food on hand, just heating it up, not this!" Turning around he holds up some celery, examining with disgust.

"Anything will do. I'm not fussed." I lean across the counter, growing hungry by the second.

"Fruit?"

"Perfect, but no -"

"Melons or Banana's. I do listen."

I break out into a grin, there's my Fifty. I stand back and watch him work around the various cabinets finding a knife to cut up the fruit he's taken from the fridge. It's painful to watch him attempt to cut up my fruit, making sure that his fingers are out-of-the-way and screwing his face up trying to concentrate.

"Christian, I can do it." I move around him, skimming my fingers around his waist.

"No, I'm almost done. Unless you want more?"

"No, that's fine. Where are going to eat?" I ask, resting my head against his arm as he plates up. I've missed him. I hate myself for causing the rift between us.

"We can go up to my old room, we'll have some privacy there."

"When are we going home?"

"Were not, Mom wants us to stay here to keep an eye on you." Smiling at me he walks me out of the kitchen, carrying my fruit for me.

"But we haven't got any clothes."

"I've asked Taylor to collect us somethings, he'll drop them off soon." Taking my hand he pulls it to his lips, kissing it all over. "Come on."

Passing Carrick and Grace again, I notice Christian regarding them with an apologetic expression. I know he blames himself for tonight, but I'm as much to blame as he and Kate are. I was wrong to have mentioned anything to her, but she's always been there for me - someone I can talk to about anything. It helped having her to talk to considering how far away my Mom was, and there's just somethings you don't talk to Ray about! But, I can't get over the way she acted. I've always known her to have a temper, especially where Christian is concerned, but I thought she would be able to keep it to herself or at least wait until we're in private to launch an attack on him. I have no idea which is more shocking - the way she behaved or that Christian 'understands' why she did it.

Climbing to the top of the staircase I'm slightly out of breath, the idea of attending a few pregnancy yoga classes seeming better and better. Settling back in his room I climb into the bed, pulling the covers around me and gesturing for him to come and sit with me.

"There you go." Passing me my bowl and he moves to sit cross-legged in front of me.

I offer the bowl to him, equally as happy to see him eat as he is with me. The idea of Christian not eating brings back thoughts of the four year-old him, alone and starving. _'I know what it's like to go hungry.'_

"You want to talk?" I begin, asking him, before taking a slice of Apple to my mouth.

"I need to tell you everything. For my peace of mind if anything. I've acted appallingly and after everything you have done for me, everything you've given me, I abused that by keeping all of this from you."

"Okay." I mumble, continuing to devour my fruit.

Taking a deep breath he stills, closing his eyes and bracing himself. I know this is a lot for him, and that he's realised how I felt.

"I know I've already told you most of this, but I know some of it I omitted. I don't exactly remember what I said or didn't so -"

"Christian -" I reach over to clasp his hand, squeezing it under my fingers. "Just tell me whatever you need to say. If I've heard it before, I'll listen more intently this time around." I smile at him, feeling his hand flex under mine.

"Have I ever said how much I love you?"

"Frequently, and it never grows old." I giggle, throwing a raspberry into my mouth and shifting my legs to sit cross-legged like him, so we're equal.

"When I received the first painting, I didn't know how to react. I suspected it was from Elena, some of the other Trouton pieces I have were gifts from her over the years, but I didn't know for certain if it was from her. I've received all manner of gifts from business partners or associates, and the majority of the time they don't even bother telling it was from them - I swear the bastards think I can read their fucking mind or something."

_You're always reading my mind!_

"But there was something that just didn't sit well, so I disregarded it, leaving it in the packaging it came with. I fully intended on disposing of it, but I left the office for a meeting, by the time I came back it was hanging on the wall. I snapped. Andrea spent the afternoon crying in the restroom calling me all the bastards under the sun. Before you ask, yes I have apologised to her since. Gave her a raise as well."

"She does a lot for you, you know?" I interrupt him, shrugging when he lets out a sigh. "Sorry."

"Don't be. But she does, that's part of the reason I felt guilty afterwards. When you noticed it I didn't know what to say, I hoped you would drop it, I should've remembered how intuitive you are. You notice the smallest details in everything, and there I was hoping you wouldn't notice the addition on the wall!"

I hold out the bowl to him again, but he rejects it. Taking it back to my lap I make light work of munching through the rest somewhat grateful that I don't need to share.

"When you asked who it was from I panicked, I came out with the first thing that sprung into my mind. I didn't want to lie and make up some client, nor did I want to imply it was from Elena on the off-chance it wasn't from her. I knew it would upset you if you thought it was from her, so I decided to brush it off. I never thought about how you over think things and analyse every minute detail. I should have known better, and I'm sorry for that."

"I forgive you." I stutter through the strawberry shoved into the corner of my mouth. "But, how exactly did you find out it was from her?"

"Well, after we were called back to the apartment, when Taylor informed us about the progress about your office, I was sitting there in the debrief thinking of how I made a promise to you, and I had no idea if it was true or not. So, I sent her an email. I want you to read it."

Leaning back slightly he stretches down into the front pocket of his slacks, taking out his BlackBerry.

"Christian, I don't need to read it." I whisper, watching him as he scrolls through his phone.

"I know, but I want to be open with you." Handing me his phone I'm in two minds as to read it. It feels intrusive to read it, even though he is offering it to me. I glance down at it, reading it for his benefit.

* * *

**From: Christian Grey**

**Subject: Question**

**Date: 3rd November 2011 02:38:12AM**

**To: Elena Lincoln**

I received a package at my office a few days ago, without any form of identification from the sender.

It was a painting. In the style of Trouton, with embellishment of colour - unlike his other works.

Did you send this to me?

Christian Grey

CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

* * *

I read through it, looking up to him when I'm finished. He's cold with her.

"She responded straight away. Scroll through to the next one." He gestures to me with his open hand.

Exiting the email I click on the one straight after it, thankful that our phones are similar, making it easier to understand and manoeuvre.

* * *

**From: Elena Lincoln**

**Subject: Answer**

**Date: 3rd November 2011 02:40:58AM**

**To: Christian Grey**

Christian,

How wonderful it is to hear from you after such a long time. I trust you are well?

I'm glad you received it on time. I hope it is of your exquisite taste? I came across it and thought of you immediately. It is rather different from Trouton, isn't it?

Be sure to touch base soon.

Yours,

Elena Lincoln

* * *

I exhale loudly skimming over her message. I can hear her serpent tongue flick the words out, ringing them through my ears and sending a shiver down my spine. Blip swirls around inside me. _Yes, we do not like that woman!_

"You might as well flick through my response. She didn't respond to the next one, which I was grateful for. I thought she got the hint, evidently not considering recent events."

I nod at him, focusing my attention to his next email. I scroll through the email at first, surprised to see it's a long response, his tone clear from the outset.

* * *

**From: Christian Grey**

**Subject: Warning**

**Date: 3rd November 2011 02:46:59AM**

**To: Elena Lincoln**

Is it not clear that I received this 'gift' from you, considering my questioning whether you were in fact the sender?

I have already asked you to cease all communication with me, please take note that this includes: phone calls, text messages, emails, letters, fax memo's, gifts or attempting to send messages to me via a third-party.

I have already expressed my wish for you to leave me, my family and more importantly my wife alone. None of us wish to have any lines of communication with you.

Until recently I never understood what my wife saw in reference to the 'relationship' we entertained many years ago. I did not agree that this was wrong, believing that it was necessary in my life - that you helped me. How wrong could I have been? Anastasia was right, it was abuse. Nothing more. Indeed, I am where I am today because of your intervention, for this I am grateful, but this alone.

Take this as a warning, if you progress to send any further means of contact to anyone in my family, you will wish you had never crossed me. I will not warn you again. I will not be as polite if this continues.

In addition, you may be concerned about how this could affect the business relationship between you and I.

I have already proceeded to inform my lawyer of my wishes to gift the Esclava chain to you, giving up my percentage of the scheme. The papers will be signed in due course and issued to you immediately. Once you have received them take that as confirmation of my desires to rid you from my life.

I mean what I say. Do not defy me.

Christian Grey

CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

* * *

"So, she never bothered to contact you again?" I hand him his phone again, slipping it into his palm.

"No. Not for a while. I was in hope that she understood and accepted my wishes. I asked my Mom is she had contacted again and she hadn't. She was leading me to believe that we were finally rid of her." Throwing his phone down on to the bed he lifts his hand to his hair, running it through in a way he does only when he's frustrated.

"When did she contact you next?"

"I can't remember the exact date, but it wasn't long after. I was in the office, held up working over some ideas put forward in regard to the solar power plant I was looking in to. Andrea and Olivia were both on their lunch and I wasn't screening my calls. I answered and there she was.

"I was fucking furious with her. I unloaded a lot down the phone to her, I only stopped when she started begging me for help. Tempting as it was to listen to her plight and then hang up in a callous way, I agreed to hear her out. She insisted that she couldn't discuss it on the phone, only in person. Naturally I told her fuck off, but she said it was important. I heard it in her voice that it was genuine, so I foolishly agreed."

"When did you meet with her?" I lean back against the padded headboard behind me. _You've heard this part, he's apologised, don't let it affect you_. For once I'm siding with her.

"It was during lunch the following day. I met her at some French restaurant not far from the office - her idea. She made a point of apologising for what happened on the night I made the biggest mistake of my life."

I hold my breath, thinking about that night. How he left me, came back drunk and finding her message on his phone. _It's in the past_.

"She said she over stepped her mark, that it was uncalled for, that she truly was sorry for it. I didn't believe a single thing coming out of her mouth, I've known her for many years and I know how she operates. Elena Lincoln doesn't apologise. She tried to make out that the painting was an ice-breaker. It's bullshit. She knew that I knew it was fucking lies and changed the subject quickly. That's when she told me about Linc.

"He'd made contact with her several times, threatening her and making requests. I pressed her to tell me but she refused, calling it 'indifferent'. I was straight with her, asking her what the fuck she expected me to do about it. Then it dawned on me, by signing over the rights to the businesses it deemed funds in my name inaccessible. She needed that money to secure a restraining order against him. I signed the check there and then. No questions asked. Elena offered to pay it back when the shares made their way over to her but I shrugged it off. I'd gladly hand over $25,000 any day if it meant she'd leave us the fuck alone."

I jolt my head back in shock, widening my eyes and staring straight at him with my jaw almost hitting the mattress beneath me.

"$25,000?"

Nodding his head he continues, it takes a moment for me to adjust to the situation. _He makes $100,000 an hour. Twenty five thousand dollars is nothing to him._

"After signing the check I got up to leave, I didn't want to spend another minute in her company. I felt disgusting having agreed to meet with her anyway, but this was a way for me to make sure she knew how I felt. That's when she stopped me, bringing you up. She asked after you - if you were well? More importantly, if everything was still 'rosy'." His lips curl up as he imitates her words. "I shot her down, it's none of her business, but I made sure she knew that everything was fine between us - perfect even. It slipped out. I didn't intend on telling her about the baby, but she kept pushing me and I snapped. To say she was shocked is an understatement."

"What did she say?"

"That she was happy for us. That she hoped the baby would give us everything we wanted and more. She asked if there was anything she could do for us, so I told her to leave us the fuck alone. That is the only gift I want from her. She was pissed at first, but she softened. She accepted it and wished us well, and then left."

Glancing down I realise I'm holding on to the empty bowl, gripping my fingers around it turning my knuckles white. Stretching over to the nightstand I set it down, Christian reaching forward to help but allowing me to do this myself.

"Okay, so you met, accidentally told her about Blip. So that gets us to where exactly?" I question, moving back to my previous position, this time stretching out my legs to the side of him.

"To moving day. While you were gone, I went straight into Blip's room. I was working with some of the removal guys and Gia, making sure that everything was perfect. I wanted to make sure it was perfect for you. And for him." Looking down to my stomach briefly, then returning to meet my eyes.

"It is perfect." I assure him, bringing a smile to his face.

"Gail brought up the basket, I took it from her seeing that it was for the baby - minus the Champagne of course! She said it was addressed to you, and I know I shouldn't have opened it, but I thought it would be nice to put away the clothes. When you returned and found that I had opened it, and then working out that it was from her, I flipped. She told me that she wouldn't contact us and she went back on her word. I got all the way to her house, paced around for a while and then gave up. I couldn't face her because I knew I would do something I would regret. I ended up on the boat, where I called her.

"I threatened her. I told her that she would lose the use of her legs if she ever tried to pull a stunt like that. I fired out so much to her and shot her down every time she spoke. I felt like ripping her fucking head off."

Pulling my knees up to my chest I hug them, this simple act becoming more difficult as my stomach swells.

"Then, the painting in your office and her coming to see you, it was too much. When I left you yesterday, I went straight over to Esclava, hell-bent on showing her why she shouldn't get on the wrong side of me."

"You said you didn't see her?"

"I didn't, Greta made out that she wasn't there. I left her a message, a few choice words thrown in and one hell of a last warning. I called the lawyer straight after telling him, but the restraining order wasn't in place at that point so it void."

I let out a little yawn, exhaustion getting the better of me.

"Am I boring you already?" Christian smirks at me.

"No! Please, carry on."

"That's pretty much it, that brings us to present day. I'm still working on how Elena managed to get into Grey Publishing via the staff elevator. Welch and Dawson are working on it. I don't expect you to just cave over this Ana. Over what I've done, or today. I can't apologise for the way Kate acted, but I can understand her reasoning."

"Christian, I am sick of you telling me that this is all your fault. I should never have opened my mouth, I knew that Kate would do what she does best, I should have known that. I blame myself for what happened, but I am fucking outraged at what she did." I spit out, my anger filtering through.

"Ana, she's your friend."

"As my friend she should have been a shoulder to cry on, not attempting to attack the man I love and then ruin a family dinner over it." Moving around and adjusting my place, I stumble to my feet. "I'm not going to sit back and allow her to do this. Just as I'm not going to sit there and have everyone make excuses for me either! I was in the wrong, I've admitted that, why is it difficult for you to accept that?"

"Ana, come here." He gestures to me, with open arms, moving to the edge of the bed. Walking over to him I stand between his legs. "Are you telling me that you want me to angry with you?"

"Yes. You should be angry at me. I blabbed to my best friend something that I was adamant that we would deal with ourselves. I've punished you not being open with me, when I should have fucking got my act together and dealt with this like an adult."

"Baby, we're allowed to make mistakes. But if it helps, I forgive you." His lips breaking into a smile.

"You give in too easily!" I collapse into his arms.

"Ah, I'm just desperate to get you naked!"


	41. Chapter 41

**Disclaimer: The characters portrayed in this story are those in E L James's Fifty Shades Trilogy, therefore they remain her property. The plot and themes in this story are those of the author. The author is in no way affiliated with James. No copyright infringement intended.**

**Thank you LoveWriter19 for pointing out about the grammar thing - I'm rubbish with grammar, always have been and always will be! I do try to read through and check as I update, but I'll try harder :)**

**Much love to you all! :D x**

* * *

With one arm wrapped around my waist, his hand resting gently on my stomach and the other in my hair, I lie with my back to his chest.

I feel completely sated; the first time in days feeling content having him mould himself around my shell, and knowing that he is finally sleeping and resting. I hate to think of him awake, lost in disturbing thoughts or playing the piano, filling the air with solemn tunes reflecting his mood. I lie still, trying to match the ebb and flow of his chest to send myself to sleep. I've fleeted between a state of delusion and consciousness for a while, unable to sink into a deep sleep.

Christian and I sat cuddling for a short while, me in his lap and my head nuzzling into his shoulder while his traced the curve of my spine with his fingers until Grace joined us, letting us know that Taylor had arrived. She offered us a smile, squeezing Christian's arm as we passed her. Although I know she is reserving some animosity towards him, over the Elena issue, deep down she is glad to see him with a smile on his face - to see _both _of us with a smile of our face.

Meeting Taylor downstairs, Christian took him to one side to discuss something - he told me what it was over but I zoned out, instead somewhere in the South of France reminiscing handcuffs, popsicle's and the photographs. I thanked him for arranging an overnight bag for us both, avoiding all eye contact with him. The idea of him picking out my clothes and underwear embarrassing, even though he has done this on many occasions. I'm at ease with the choice he has made: a pair of maternity jeans, an over-sized cream sweater Caroline Acton insisted would see me through the upcoming winter, pregnancy and post-baby body, and one of the new matching sets I picked out at Neimans - a white non-wired maternity bra and lace panties. Somehow I think Christian made the decision about my night wear for this evening, resulting in the light pink, floor length satin gown at the bottom of the holdall. I caught him smirking at me as I stared down at it.

"You should only ever wear the finest silks."

Gliding over to me and wrapping an arm around my waist, he plants a small kiss on my forehead before returning to side of the bed he has commandeered.

"Hm..." Placing it back down I groan, the idea of sleeping in this undesirable.

"If it makes you happy have this -"

I turn to face him, just in time to catch the t-shirt he was throwing over to me - the one he had just changed into himself - leaving him in just his pyjama pants.

"It's your smell." I mutter to him, bringing the material to my nose and taking in a long breath. "That's the reason I wear them, because your smell is on them."

Glancing over I watch as his lips curl up into a grin, melting the remaining frost surrounding me from the past few days. Throwing on his t-shirt I curled up beside him under the covers, sprawling over his chest and pushing my leg in between his, mimicking the way I find him some mornings. We stayed like this for a while until he urged me to roll on to my side, allowing him to embrace me and cradle me to sleep.

"Baby, why are you awake?" His chest vibrating against my back as he circles my bump with his hand, bringing me back to the present.

"I thought you were asleep?" _Did I wake him?_

"I was, the change in your breathing woke me. I always know when you are awake Ana: you stop moving and you stop talking."

Swatting his hand away I give out a small laugh. "Did I say anything of significance? Anything _Sir_ found interesting?"

"Something about carrot sticks?"

"Oh -"

"What do you mean 'oh'?"

Rolling me on to my back Christian cups my chin to make sure I face him, taking in his erratic hair strewn in all different directions, the moon light creeping in from the window opposite highlighting the lighter strands of copper. Propping himself up on his elbow, he traces my jaw with his fingers, feathering my skin.

"I was craving them earlier."

"Carrot sticks?"

I nod my head in response, his fingers leaving my jaw and trailing down my torso, reaching the hem of his t-shirt and lifting it to reveal my stomach where it protrudes over my panties.

"At least he's eating healthily and not craving junk!"

"Hey! He likes chocolate just as much as the next guy!"

"As long as you're eating baby, I don't care what you feed him. He can have whatever he or his Mother desires." Meeting my lips with his I reach with my fingers to secure his face to mine.

"Christian?" I whisper, his lips stuck fast to me - moving from my lips to my cheek, caressing my skin.

"Hm?"

"Have you thought of any names?" Lifting his head from me sharply, his eyebrow arks and his lips adjusting to a pout. "For Blip?"

"I can't say I have. Why, have you?"

"Sort of." Gesturing me with his eyes I continue. "I want him to have a strong name, something that will carry him in life and not leave him hating us. But, I also want a name with some significance. A family name."

"One of our fathers name?"

"Maybe not that close, I was thinking maybe grandparents or something?" I press. "What about your side? My Mom's father was Gerry, and Ray's Dad was Peter. Neither of them seem right for him." The thought of a baby Gerry Grey down right cruel!

"I have no idea about Dad's father, he passed away not long after I was adopted and we never really spoke about him, and of course, Mother's father is Theo."

"Theo?" I muse, looking up to the ceiling. _Theo? Theo Grey?_

"It's short for Theodore. Theodore Trevelyan."

"Theodore!" Switching to lie on my side facing him I break into a grin. "I love Theodore!"

"You do?"

"It's perfect!" The grin on my face widening.

"Almost -" Christian's own smile mimicking mine. "How about Theodore Raymond?"

"After my Dad?"

Giving out a simple nod I well up. _Theodore Raymond Grey. _

"Christian, he'll love it. It's perfect for Blip. Two strong names."

"And, if he hates Theodore, there's always Ted, for short."

"Our little Teddy bear." The first happy tear trickling down my cheek, grateful for it being the only one. "Teddy."

"Teddy."

Kissing me again and caressing Blip he rolls me back on to my side, facing away from him to wrap himself around me once more. Finally feeling my mind shutting down and matching my relaxed exterior, I start to drift off.

"Goodnight Teddy bear."

* * *

Showering and dressing into my jeans and sweater I joined the rest of the Grey household for breakfast, glad to see them laughing and joking with one another as I entered. Slipping into the seat next to Christian I made a quick start on the granola in front of me, Christian smiling and telling me how he asked Taylor to bring some with him last night.

"You shouldn't have! I'll pretty much eat anything these days!"

"But granola is your favourite. Isn't it?" His eyes narrowing, examining me to see if my preference has changed. There have been many changes to my diet thanks to Blip. Thanks to Teddy.

"Sure is." I smile back at him, scooping a spoonful into my mouth and relishing in its taste. The taste I grew to love on our honeymoon.

Leaning across to me as I spoon more of my breakfast into my mouth, Christian whispers to me, the rest of his family oblivious and discussing news from the morning paper.

"You know we really should prepare a girl's name."

"It's Teddy. I know it is." I smile back to him as he leans back again, returning to his pancakes with a grin across his face.

Although we made the decision to wait until birth to know Blip's sex, and to also leave the nursery suitable for either boy or girl, I am growing more certain as each day passes that we're having a boy. A mini Christian Grey. My copper haired, grey eyed angel running through our meadow.

It's calm and comfortable around the table, Mia enlightening us about her conversation with Ethan from last night. The way her eyes light up speaking about him shows it clear and well that she really does like him. If only he could get over the 'my sister is dating your brother' dilemma. They suit each other and judging from Mia's behaviour, things have already gone from crush to obsessive in a matter of months. More so on her side!

While we can joke with one another, the events of yesterday in the past and partly forgotten, the gigantic elephant in the room stares at me from the two empty chairs opposite. No one has mentioned the lack of Elliot or Kate from the table, my better judgment warning me not to bring it up, recalling the way Grace regarded her, calling her Katherine in a cold way. A part of me wants to sneak off and call her, find out what the hell happened yesterday and make sure that she's not hurled up on the couch in those dreadful pyjamas wallowing in the shit that happened, but the other part is glued to my seat angry with the way she behaved. I am as much to blame as she is, but was it really necessary to bring it up over dinner? To ruin the day for everyone and threaten to cause yet more shit for me? I need to make a stand, and not go running off to let her in again. I love her, that is not in question, I just want her know that as my friend she should have stopped when I asked her to.

"Excuse me. There is someone here to for Mr Grey."

Turning my head over to the archway dividing the dining room and the hall Gretchen stands there, her hands pulled together in front of her, her fingers knotted and her hair pulled back into a single braid hanging down one shoulder.

"To which Grey are you referring?" Carrick questions her, glancing up from the paper he was engrossed in.

"Your son sir. He also asked to see Mrs Grey." She glances over both Christian and I, her attention lingering on him longer than me, before flickering back to Carrick.

_Me?_

Taking me by the hand Christian leads me out of the dining room, excusing us from the table and asking Gretchen who our guest is as we pass her. I squeeze my fingers around his as he grows frustrated with her when she stammers, apologising to him that she forget to ask. As much as Gretchen has irritated me in the past by attempting to flirt with Christian and flaunt herself in his presence, it is too early in the day to pick a fight with the staff.

"He's waiting for you in Mr Grey senior's office." She mumbles, keeping her head low as she leaves us at the door to Carrick's home office, stumbling down the hallway and heading off to a room on the right.

Entering behind Christian I close the door behind me, moving back to Christian's side and clocking Detective Clark standing next to Carrick's desk, spying over some papers and moving them with his fingers to get a closer look. Hearing us enter he retreats, standing upright and addressing us.

"Ah, Mr Grey, I was hoping to find you here. Mrs Grey." Offering a slight nod, greeting me, I smile back, unable to hide my confusion about why he is here.

"Clark. To what to do we owe this pleasure?" Christian retorts sarcastically.

"You proved difficult to find. I went to your building first, finding out that you're on a break from earning the dollars. I then went to your apartment, to be told you'd moved. Mr Grey, that's a nice place you've got over on the sound. Very... _Spacious_."

I watch as he paces the desk, his freshly polished shoes clattering on the parquet flooring.

"Well, you've found me now, what's this about?"

"I need to speak to you both, in private." He twists his head, looking over at Christian then staring down at me.

"Anything you have to say you can say in front of us both, together."

"Is that what you'd like Mrs Grey?"

Swallowing hard I nod, moving to sit down in one of the armchairs, Christian following suit and slumping into the chair beside me, Clark perching himself on the edge of the desk in front of us.

"We've received an allegation. I'm here to follow-up and ask you a few questions." Shuffling his legs to cross one over the other. He stretches out his arms to his side, holding on to the sides of Carrick's large pinewood desk.

"What allegation?"

"An allegation of assault. A call was made a few days ago, a complaint lodged -" He shifts, pulling out a small notepad from his suit jacket and opening it, flicking through several pages until he reaches the right one. "Ah, yes! Complaint from a Ms. E. Lincoln."

"Elena?!" I exclaim, Christian jolting his head towards me and our eyes meeting, expressing the same emotions: shock, confusion and anger all rolled into one.

"Yes Ma'am."

"A few days ago?" I press on.

"Uh-Huh." He hums through the hard-line his lips are pressed into.

_She's making out she was assaulted?! I barely fucking touched her!_

"What is she saying happened?"

"The file states that she has sustained facial disfigurement and several cracked ribs."

"Detective Clark this has been blown out of proportion!" I lean forward, sliding to the edge of my seat and grabbing his attention. "I mean, I slapped her, but she trespassed into _my_ building. She snuck into one of the rooms and was trying to intimidate me and kept pushing me, I snapped and lashed out but I did not do_ that_ to her! The worst she could have come away with was a bruise!"

I start to ramble, reeling off what happened when she made her unwelcome visit to my office, only stopping when Detective Clark raised his hand halting me after taking several notes.

"Mrs Grey, if that's correct you can lodge your own complaint against her for trespassing but I think you have the wrong end of the stick here."

Twisting my head to the side and narrowing my eyes I watch as he lifts his pen from the notepad in his hand.

"I don't understand."

"The complaint alleges that it was you, Mr Grey, that attacked Ms Lincoln." His eyes moving to Christian.

_What?!_

Almost falling out of my chair I lean back, shaking my head and checking that I heard him correctly. _Christian?_

Turning my head towards him I watch him stare sternly at Clark, his blood boiling.

"Fucking bitch!" He shouts out, slamming his fist on the arm of his chair then moving to push both hands through his hair, throwing his head back and exhaling loudly.

"Whoa, Mr Grey! That's some temper you have there!" Clark jolts from the desk, rising to his feet and standing with his arms crossed against his chest. "Now, that's some bruising you have to your hand. Care to explain that?"


	42. Chapter 42

**Disclaimer: The characters portrayed in this story are those in E L James's Fifty Shades Trilogy, therefore they remain her property. The plot and themes in this story are those of the author. The author is in no way affiliated with James. No copyright infringement intended.**

**A bit later than planned - don't you hate it when real life gets in the way?!**

**With the weekend coming up I'll have a lot more for you lovely people! **

**Little note: some of you are asking about Mr Anderson, don't worry she will coming up again soon! All with be revealed in due course! :)**

**Much love to you all and I hope you enjoy! :) x**

* * *

"Mr Grey, I think you need to calm down and answer my questions."

I adjust my attention between Detective Clark and Christian struggling to process the situation.

Clark is standing metres away from Christian's chair, looking down at him with his arms crossed around his front and narrowing his dark eyes at him. It's clear he is trying to intimidate him, something I know will never end well. _Surely he knows what Christian is like?_ I twist in my chair to face Christian, reaching out with my arm to clasp his hand and pull it from his face. He stiffens as I make contact with him, softening when he turns his eyes towards me.

"Christian, please calm down." I whisper to him, my voice low and composed. I stroke my thumb over his hand, the way he does with me, in an attempt to help calm him and prevent this from escalating any further.

Sighing loudly Christian drops his shoulders, releasing some of the tension pent-up in them. "How the fuck am I supposed to calm down?"

"Baby, please, try? For me?" Trying to keep up his focus I continue to stroke his hand and squeeze it with my fingers. Exhaling loudly once more Christian closes his eyes, opening them and nodding his head to me, bringing his temper down slightly.

Comforting him for a few seconds I turn my attention back to Detective Clark, his eyes thanking me somewhat.

"Detective, what exactly did _Ms Lincoln_ claim my husband did to her?" I spit out her name with disgust, every part of her makes me feel sick: her name, her voice, the way she looks, right down to simply knowing that she's still breathing.

"We were called to the county hospital on Wednesday afternoon, in regard to the assault. She gave her statement to us there and then, insisting that she wanted to press charges against you. I believe she's also seeking to obtain a temporary restraining order."

"That'd be about fucking right!" Christian laughs, throwing his head to the side and smirking.

"Ms Lincoln's injuries are relatively minor - a few bruises to her face, a black eye and several crack ribs. Mr Grey, where were you on Wednesday afternoon, between 1pm and 2:30pm?"

"I'm a very busy man, Detective. You'll have to call my assistant to confirm my schedule."

"I did. You were out of office, so I really need you to think." His lips are hard, twisting each word out and demonstrating his growing frustration with Christian, and he obstinate attitude.

"He was with me." I jump in, both of them jerking their heads toward me.

"Was he now?" Clark turns his gaze to me, perching back down on the edge of Carrick's desk. He lifts the notepad he was using from the desk, opening it and starting to write everything I say.

"Christian and I had lunch together in my office. He called me shortly after one. I had left the office with one of our security personnel and he wanted to know where I was. You see, Detective Clark, what I didn't realise at the time was he was already in my office waiting for me." I relay to him, clear and precise.

His eyes are focused on the notepad while his hand moves rapidly, copying my account of Wednesday. "Uh-huh... So, when did you return to your office Mrs Grey?"

"Er, just before half past maybe? Christian and I had lunch together for a short while, until the applicant I was interviewing arrived."

"And when did they arrive?" Looking up from his notepad I can tell he is trying to catch me out, trying to catch us both out.

"I have no idea, but I met with them just before two."

"So, you ate and then what happened Mr Grey?" Clark moving back to Christian. He's slumped forward in his chair, resting his elbows on his knees with his head low.

"I left, I had an appointment to attend to. I was on my way to it with another of our security team when my wife contacted me to tell me she was finished for the day." Leaning back he glances over to me, his face fixed and hard. "We turned back and headed straight to my wife's building."

"When did you arrive?"

"No later than three." He moves, crossing his legs and running his fingers down the arms of his chair. "Detective, there are cameras at my wife's office that will clarify when I arrived and when I left. There will be an abundance of witnesses who will have seen me, and my security detail can also vouch for my whereabouts."

"We will need to confirm this Mr Grey, but what you have provided is suffice for now. As you are aware, we have a duty of care to follow-up all accusations." Closing his notes and shoving it back into his inside jacket pocket, he rises from the desk.

"Detective, can I ask what she claims happened?"

"Of course sir, she claims that you arrived at her salon - she was leaving through the back entrance, making her way over to her car when it is alleged you attacked her. Ms Lincoln has told us that you hit her repeatedly and shouted obscenities to her, leaving her injured and lying on the ground."

"That's complete bullshit! Though, you'll find that out when you do some research. The research you should have done before you came hunting me down, throwing around a load of fucking lies which that fucking whore fed you!"

"Mr Grey -" Clark adjusts his stance, his feet shoulder length apart and his hands out in protest. "I'm just doing my job sir! I wasn't originally going to follow this up. Off the record, there was a few things that didn't ring true about her story. My second and I decided to give in when she informed us that she has a witness who saw you fleeing the scene, then found her on the ground, but we were dubious - the witness is what you could call unreliable, for want of better words."

"Who's the witness?" Christian hisses to him.

_Don't even go there Christian! _I think to him, knowing what he is thinking. If he finds out who it is, he will make their life a misery. Yet more trouble!

"I couldn't possibly say. But I wouldn't concern yourselves, if you have witnesses and footage that will verify your whereabouts then there is nothing to worry about. If that's the case, I suggest you file a harassment case against her."

"Oh, we will! That bitch will have nothing by the time I'm finished with her!"

"Detective, can I ask you something?" I speak out, unable to work one thing out in my mind.

"Of course ma'am." He nods, crossing his arms again and focusing on me.

"If you didn't believe her, or her witness, why did you bother continuing with this? I mean, if you thought she was lying why press on?"

"We have a duty of care to look into any accusation, however the real tipping point was something that she brought to our attention." Shifting towards me, moving out of Christian's space, he continues. "Ms Lincoln told us that she feared for your safety, Mrs Grey."

"What?!" Taken a back I jolt in my seat, eyes and mouth wide open.

"She informed us that she knew you were admitted to hospital recently, with severe bruising. Ms Lincoln seemed concerned that this might have been a domestic issue, suggesting that Mr Grey has a violent streak and anger problems. She expressed her concerns for the safety of yourself and your baby."

"I have no idea how she found out about that, but I can assure you that my husband never has and never will hurt me!" I snap, a little more forcefully than I intended. _How dare she accuse Christian of that! Fucking bitch!_

"As I said ma'am, we had to investigate. I spoke to one of your friends early this morning - a Miss Kavanagh. She informed me what happened and how you sustained the injuries.

Detective Clark glares at both Christian and I, apologising for his intrusion and explaining again that he is just doing his job. We can't fault him for that, it's what that fucking psychotic bitch troll has done that has infuriates me. Does she really get her kicks out of doing this to us?

"Can I ask Mr Grey, how did you injury your hand?" Clark's eyes flicker down to Christian's hand, the one brought up to his mouth as he traces his bottom lip with his index finger.

"Unfortunate incident with a window. You see Clark, with the stress of my work and the hassle I am having to deal with because of that whore, it's only natural that on occasion it becomes too much. A momentarily lapse of judgment. I would never take that out on my wife, instead an inanimate object received the brunt of it."

"I understand sir. We've all been there. My wife is one for throwing plates at head height!" He chuckles slightly, easing the tension in the room.

"If that's all Detective?" Christian retorts bluntly, leaping from his chair. I match him, rising more slowly from mine and moving to stand by his side, knitting my fingers through his.

"Yes Mr Grey, I have no further questions. We will check the footage from the cameras at Grey Publishing, and I will need to speak to both your driver and employees at your wife's office, but I can't say I believe there to be a problem. I do suggest you hire a lawyer to resolve this. In my opinion sir, she's clearly doing this because of some vendetta against yourselves."

Stretching his hand out to us, Christian accepts it with reverence, holding it for a few seconds before releasing it and allowing his hand to fall back to his side.

"She's pissed off because I have filed a restraining order against her. She has harassed both me and my wife often even though I have warned her repeatedly to leave us alone."

"I see. Women tend to work and act in mysterious ways sir." Offering his hand to me a thought flashes across his face. "Oh! No offence ma'am!" His face falling and eyes widening in shock at what he has just let slip.

"None taken." I smile, brushing it off and accepting his hand.

"May I add my congratulations to you both, about your pregnancy."

"Thank you." Christian and I mumble simultaneously, in perfect harmony with one another.

"I apologise for this intrusion, I'll show myself out. Good day to you both."

Smiling at us, Detective Clark exits the office, leaving Christian and I standing there numb and speechless. I'm unable to get any words out instead only able to wrap my arms around his waist, pulling him closer to me and resting my head on his chest. It takes him a while to react, lost in thought, eventually embracing and holding me close with one hand fisted in my hair, the other against the small of my back.

"What a great start to the day." I whisper, a sardonic undertone in my voice.

"I want to rip her fucking arms off!" His chest stiffens as he hisses through his teeth, clenched hard in his mouth.

"Baby, you know that's what she wants." Lifting my head from his body I look up to him, staring him straight in the eye. Irate grey to composed blue. "She wants to cause as much trouble for us as possible, all because you've put a stop to her contacting us. She knows that she can't come near us, instead, by doing this she is trying to get you to go to her. That way she hasn't done anything wrong."

Cupping my face with both of his hands Christian brings his lips to mine, forcing them apart to push his tongue into my mouth. He's hard and rushed, exploring me in a rapid pace; a pace that disturbs part of me.

"How did you get so smart?"

"I think college might have helped. Other than that, I can see what she's trying to do. Elena is hell-bent on splitting us up. She's said herself that she doesn't believe that we will last, and that she'll be the one you go to when the shit hits the fan!"

"I'd rather die than go near her." He breathes on to my skin, hovering close to my lips with his nose rubbing against mine. "I only ever want you. Only you."

I relax in his hold, sinking into him and pushing my lips back to his. Every time I kiss him I still feel those sparks, those muscles deep inside twisting and clenching as he slips his tongue in my mouth, teasing mine and exploring every part of me.

"What are we going to do now? I mean, Detective Clark will find out the truth anyway, so how are we going to tackle this?" I question him, concerned at what his answer might be knowing that his first idea would probably result in her stuck in a wheelchair for the rest of her life, being fed through a tube. _I can't say I object to that!_ My subconscious chimes in, gathering the weapons of choice.

"I'll make an appointment to see our lawyer, I'll bankrupt the bitch. She won't have a fucking leg to stand on. In the meantime, I'll have Welch dig a little and find out who that fucking 'witness' is."

"Have they worked out how she got into my building?" I ask, remembering how he said they were trying to work it out. It worries me to think of how she could have got in - she used a private elevator for Christ's sake!

"Not yet, but they will. Try not to worry Ana, we'll sort this." He lifts my chin, pointing my face up to his. "I promise."

"I know."

"Come, let's go and finish what's left of our breakfast before we head home."

* * *

Bypassing the barrage of questions from Mia, Christian brushes it off telling her it was nothing important - just business. I kept my head down, focusing on the rest of my breakfast, as Christian avoided the questions and tried to make his parents believe it really was nothing important. When I looked up I saw the glances that they exchanged, his way of telling them that he will divulge the information to them at some point, in private.

I waited in the reception area with Mia while Christian retreated to his bedroom, collecting our things ready to take out to the car.

"Yesterday sucked didn't it?" Her chocolate eyes meeting mine as she pouts with her full lips.

"Yeah, I'm sorry about that. I know you all went to a lot of trouble."

"Ah, there will be other family dinners, hopefully Kate won't start the next world war at the next one!"

"Have you heard from her?" I ask, twisting the hem of my sweater between my fingers.

"Nope, she barely said anything last night when Elliot left with her. She tried to apologise to Mom and Dad but they shrugged it off. Elliot called this morning, he said he dropped her off at home and then went back to his old apartment."

"He didn't stay with her?"

"No, he said that on the way home she kept running Christian down and he told her to stop. When they got back to her place she snapped at him, so he left her there."

"That's so not like Kate!" I scrunch my face trying to work it out. Kate has always had a temper and has often let her mouth run away with her, but this was out of the ordinary.

"She had a lot to drink." Mia replies, her voice quiet and expressionless.

"What?"

"Didn't you notice? She packed away a fair bit! By the time we sat down for dinner she had already finished a bottle of wine herself!"

"Still, that's no excuse. I've seen Kate out of her tree drunk and she has never acted that way!" My mind flicks back to the many Friday nights back in college - her non-stop drinking, flirting with strangers and the arguments with the guys girlfriends.

"Are you going to speak to her?"

"At some point. I just don't know how to approach it."

"It'll all work out. I'm sure of it." She smiles at me, folding me into her arms and hugging me. "Besides, weddings and babies always bring people together, and both are going to happen at the same time!"

I smile at her, holding her close and releasing her when Christian emerges from the hall carrying the holdall.

"You ready baby?"

"Yeah, just need to say bye to Grace and we can go." Squeezing Mia one last time I leave her side to find Grace, knowing she is the kitchen.

"Laters Mia." Christian calls to her following me out of the room, bringing a smile to my face.

Finding Grace and Carrick in the kitchen we exchange our goodbyes and discuss the upcoming benefit they are holding in a few weeks, for some charity Grace sponsors.

The SUV is flooded with the midday traffic news, Christian driving us down the interstate heading home. His fingers are draped around mine twirling my engagement and wedding rings around my finger.

"Christian?"

"Yeah baby?" He turns his head to the side momentarily before looking back to the road.

"Can I ask you something?"

He tightens his hold of my fingers, his face hardening slightly. "Anything. Ana, you know you can ask me anything."

"Well, you know how these past few days have been so shitty?"

"Yes?" Looking at me through the corner of his eye I can tell he is wondering where the hell this is going.

"Can we do something this weekend? You know, just us?"

"What did you have in mind?"

"You and me taking up residence in the family room, a tonne of DVD's, popcorn and chocolate pudding. No phones, no work. Just us." I turn my head to face him, catching the corner of his mouth rising into a smirk.

"Sounds perfect, but I'll need to make a couple of calls this evening. Can we rain check until tomorrow?"

"Sure, I've actually got some reading to do when we get back anyway, but I'll hold you to it!"

"Really? Well I better make sure my ass is on that couch then, shouldn't I?" Christian laughs, throwing his head to the side.

"I'm telling you Grey, your ass is mine!"

"As it should be, because baby, I own your ass!"


	43. Chapter 43

**Disclaimer: The characters portrayed in this story are those in E L James's Fifty Shades Trilogy, therefore they remain her property. The plot and themes in this story are those of the author. The author is in no way affiliated with James. No copyright infringement intended.**

**Another post coming up soon - later tonight!**

**Thank you for your reviews and love!**

**Much love and Enjoy! :) x**

* * *

Pulling up outside our home I shift to face Christian, watching him intently as he unbuckles his seatbelt and brings the engine to a halt. He catches me in the corner of his eye staring at him, turning his body to face me and raising his eyebrow he looks bewildered.

"Something wrong?"

I knot my fingers in my lap, twisting them and fiddling with my wedding ring.

"Christian, I don't want to bring this up but there's just one thing I need to understand. You told me yesterday that when you left my office you went to Esclava, but you told Detective Clark that you were on your way to an appointment?"

"Ana -" His lips form a pout, his eyes narrowing and shifting from mine to the hood of the car. "How do you think it would have looked if I said that I went there, now that she claims I attacked her?"

"I didn't think of it that way. But, you saw Greta right?"

"Yes, but whoever her witness is the police don't believe them anyway. Besides, Taylor will support my statement and I was on my way to an appointment, I just never made it there."

"Oh?" _Because you went to see her?_

"Because you called me." He answers my unspoken question, tilting his head towards me and smiling. "I was in the car on my way to my meeting, then when you said you were finished. I wanted to come and collect you. The fact I had an appointment scheduled and confirmed is enough for Clark to get off my back."

Pushing his fingers through mine, prizing them apart, he fills the gaps in between them and squeezes a little.

"I'm not doubting you! I just wanted to clear it up a little. I guess I've had an information overload these past couple of days!"

"I know baby. I'm sorry." Bringing my hand to his lips and kissing it gently he moves to step out of the car. "Come, let's get inside."

Our house is warm, a stark difference from the breeze and chill outside. Making our way straight through to the kitchen, Gail greets us, breaking from cooking something on the stove and offering to take our bag from Christian.

"Mr Grey, Ana. How are you both?" She moves around to us, reaching out for the holdall and glaring at Christian for him to hand it over. "Mr Grey, I can sort through that for you."

He soon releases the bag, offering it to her and moving to sit himself around the breakfast counter. "We're both fine." He mumbles plainly.

"How was your thanksgiving?" Gail turns to face me, acknowledging that Christian is not in the mood to discuss anything. with his head resting on his forearms, slumped down on the counter.

"It was good. Normal, really." I lie to her, brushing it off and moving the conversation along. "What about yours? Did you see Sophie?"

"Oh yes, she's such a sweet girl. Though, it would've been nice to spend a little more time with her. Her mother called her back before schedule." She gives me a weak smile - a fake smile - one that I see straight through.

"Oh Gail," I rub her arm gently, comforting her. "That's awful. Is Taylor okay?"

"He's good. Anyway, I'm just about to run through the meal list for this next week, any requests?"

I turn to face Christian, watching him as he slowly lifts his head from the counter. His eyes find mine and he waves his hand at me.

"Whatever Ana wants. Her preferences are more important than mine." Rubbing his eyes he shifts to slide out of his stool, setting back on to his feet. "I'm going to go and sort out some things in my study."

Without turning around he saunters off down the hall, exiting into his study and leaving Gail and I staring after him. I smile at her, reassuring her that he's fine and set to discussing our meals for next week.

"Would you like anything to drink?" Turning away from me, she heads towards the cabinets preempting my choice.

"Cup of tea would be amazing!" I beam at her. Gail knows me inside and out - my likes and dislikes, right down to the fabric softener I prefer. I guess it's her job to know everything.

"Coming right up."

We sit around the breakfast counter with our tea and run through her suggestions. Her choices are amazing, considering the changes she has had to adjust to with my recent aversions and cravings, mixed in with the foods I'm no longer able to indulge in. In no time at all we've planned everything for the next week or so, Gail neatly jotting everything down in her notebook.

"Now, what would you like for dinner?" Gail asks, climbing down from the stool beside me to move over to the refrigerator.

"Anything. Whatever is easiest for you."

"We have some pancetta in the refrigerator, I could rustle it up with some pasta if you like?"

"That sounds perfect." Smiling at her I jump down from the counter, making my way towards the staircase in need of a shower and something stretchy.

Inside our bedroom I fall backwards on to the mattress, letting out a loud sigh as I savour the soft and relaxing feel of our bed. I look forward to having my husband in here with me tonight, considering the last time we were here he slept down the hall. That was, by far, the worst night's sleep I have had in a while. We should always sleep together, no matter what. I lie there for a few moments, looking up at the ceiling and find myself drifting, the comfortable and enticing fabrics beneath relaxing me and slowly weakening my mind and body. I move to wake myself up, heading into our bathroom to shower quickly and change into some sweats.

The water is warm, cascading down over me and soaking my hair. The shower head is larger than the one at our apartment; it's huge - large enough to cover both Christian and I comfortably, a thought I love. Both of us, in the shower... Wet, naked, and the smell of his body wash.

I squirt some shampoo into my hands to distract myself, the majority of it sinking through my fingers before I can get it to my hair. Massaging it in thoroughly I rinse it, standing under the shower with my head tilted back allowing the water to do its magic. For a while I'm able to free my mind, allowing the water to wash away everything. Christian and I are in a good place right now, everything in the open and nothing to hide. The Kate thing will work itself out eventually, I hope.

Climbing out and wrapping a towel around myself and my hair, I shuffle along the floor to our closet throwing on the first pair of sweats and t-shirt I came across. Dressing quickly I ruffle the towel against my hair, drying it a little before following the delicious smells seeping up from downstairs. It smells so... _Incredible_.

Allowing my nose to guide me I find myself in the kitchen, Gail just about to plate up our dinner.

"I'll just go and call for Mr Grey."

"No -" I raise my hands to her, halting her in her tracks and allowing her to continue. "I'll go get him, it's no problem."

Quickly making my way down the hall in search of Christian, I come to his office door, opening it and flying in. He shifts in his chair, looking up at me from his computer screen. He doesn't say anything, simply watching me as I walk over to him and rest my hands on either side of his chair, twirling him to face me.

"Can I help you?" Smirking at me he closes down his computer with one hand and returns his attention to me.

"Dinner's ready."

"Okay, I'm pretty much done. I'll need to make a few calls after dinner, but it shouldn't take too long."

Stooping down I take him by the hands, getting him to stand and pulling him out of the room. He resists playfully, acting like a dead weight as I drag him towards the food my stomach is jumping for. Bringing him to the edge of the counter I push him towards the stool next mine, forcing him to sit and reaching forward to kiss him briefly before making my way over to my seat.

"Is that all I get? One little kiss?"

"That's all you're getting Grey, so you better get used to it! Baby's hungry which makes me hungry." I grin at him, looking up from my plate and bringing my fork to my mouth.

"Say no more, but you're mine later."

"Hm, I can't wait." Winking at him and biting down on my lip I let out a giggle, unable to contain my excitement.

"Mr Grey, can I get you anything to drink?" Gail asks, interrupting our moment while fetching me a glass of my favourite Orange juice. "A glass of wine maybe?"

"Ah, I'll just have whatever Ana's having." He replies, smiling at me weakly, continuing to devour his pasta.

"Christian, have a glass of wine! Just because I'm not drinking doesn't mean you can't." I remind him once again, having discussed this weeks ago. "Gail, he'll have wine."

"Topping from the bottom again?" He whispers, smirking and teasing me.

I jolt my head to him, lowering my eyebrows in confusion. "You know, I have no idea what that means."

"It's a sub/dom thing. Where the sub thinks they have control." He shrugs his shoulders, taking in my naivety.

"Oh, I didn't know. Good job I'm not a sub then!"

"Very good job." Christian reaches across to me, pulling my face towards him and pushing his lips to mine, kissing me loudly. "Because I prefer you as my wife."

Breaking out into a ridiculous smile I return to my dinner, enjoying every part of it - the delicious food in front of me, the mouth-watering Orange juice I love, and being with Christian. He keeps hold of my hand throughout the meal, leaving both of us to feed ourselves single-handedly - more difficult of his behalf because he's attempting to eat with his left hand. Just the simplest act of holding hands and talking, enough to overwhelm me and send me to the heavens.

* * *

With Adele blasting out of my headphones, part of the Ana playlist I downloaded on to Christian's iPod, I settle under the covers of our bed with my Mac, ready to make a start of this new manuscript I've been waiting for all week. Grey Publishing, and SIP before it, has been hoping to work with an elusive author for sometime now. All of her works have topped the charts earning millions, however this would be the first work to be published with us - the previous publication firm she was associated with went bankrupt a few months back, much to Christian's amusement. Somewhere along the lines I would hazard a guess that he had some involvement with it.

I open up the email she has sent me to retrieve her work, the excitement unfathomable.

* * *

**From: Anita Butler**

**Subject: 'Everything Else Can Wait'**

**Date: 25th November 2011 10:39:22AM**

**To: Anastasia Grey**

Dear Mrs Grey,

I hope you are well, and have had a pleasant thanksgiving?

I have attached the revised opening chapter of my next work: 'Everything Else Can Wait'. I look forward to hearing your opinion on this piece, and hope that we can schedule a meeting sometime next week to discuss.

I am keen to work with Grey Publishing Ltd, and hope that this can be the start of amazing things.

Yours,

Anita Butler

* * *

Extracting the attachment, opening it up and checking it over I tap out a reply.

* * *

**From: Anastasia Grey**

**Subject: 'Everything Else Can Wait'**

**Date: 25th November 2011 20:02:31PM**

**To: Anita Butler**

Dear Anita,

Please, call my Ana.

Thank you for your email.

I am well thank you, I hope you are as well?

I have received your piece and I look forward to making a start on it. I will have my assistant arrangement a meeting so we can discuss the finer details, and hopefully forge a contract.

Grey Publishing Ltd. is excited at the prospect of working with you, and I am sure that this will be the stepping stone in your journey with us.

Yours,

Anastasia Grey

Editor, Grey Publishing Ltd.

* * *

Closing my emails and moving back to the manuscript I turn up Adele, relishing in 'Lovesong'. _Whenever I'm alone with you, you make me feel like I am whole again. _Her voice is like velvet to my ears, every word smooth and full of emotion, sitting side-by-side with the rustic sounds of a guitar. I love Hannah for introducing her music to me.

_Whatever words I say, I will always love you_...

Turning my attention back to Anita's latest novel, I am pulled away from it the second I make a start on the first line. In the corner of my screen, flashing like a beacon, is an incoming message. With the temptation too much I open it, maximizing the screen and reading the single line message.

**Kate:** hi

_Just one word? Just 'hi'? _

I sit there for a few moments, what do I say to that?_ 'Hi Kate, so glad you contacted me because I've been pulling my hair out over here.'_

Staring blankly at the screen, lightly tapping the keys without typing anything she sends another message.

**Kate:** Ana, are you there?

**Kate:** Ana?

**Kate:** Look, I'm sorry okay? Please just talk to me?

Her messages coming flying in thick and fast, pressing and urging me to reply. Giving in I reply with a quick message, not wanting to discuss this sitting behind a computer screen.

**Ana:** Kate, I can't talk right now.

**Kate:** Why?

**Ana:** I have work to do, and this isn't exactly something that I want to discuss online. We need to talk in person.

**Kate:** Okay... When?

**Ana:** I don't know, but soon. Maybe we can have dinner? All four of us?

I need to get both her and Christian in the same room, hopefully so they can move on from this. After all, Kate is going to be his sister-in-law soon and our baby's Aunt, they'll need to talk at some point!

**Kate:** four?

**Ana:** Me, you, Elliot and Christian.

**Kate:** Okay. Let me know when. I am sorry Ana. I love you. K x

**Ana:** I know. A x

A part of me is glad that she's contacted me having made the first move, the other dreading having to tell Christian that we'll be having dinner with her as some point. I know he will need some persuading. _Time to get naked Grey_!

Closing down the manuscript, knowing that I'm not going to be able to make any progress with that tonight, I open up my emails ready to send a quick message to him.

* * *

**From: Anastasia Grey**

**Subject: When will you...**

**Date: 25th November 2011 20:39:01PM**

**To: Christian Grey**

...be finished?

I love you.

A

x

* * *

As usual he responds quickly. _We aim to please, Mrs Grey_.

* * *

**From: Christian Grey**

**Subject: Just about to...**

**Date: 25th November 2011 20:41:58PM**

**To: Anastasia Grey**

...wrap up a call with Ros.

Why?

I love you too.

C

x

Christian Grey

CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

* * *

**From: Anastasia Grey**

**Subject: Because...**

**Date: 25th November 2011 20:43:31PM**

**To: Christian Grey**

...I'm sitting here, naked and wanting you.

A

x

* * *

**From: Christian Grey**

**Subject: I'm on my way!**

**Date: 25th November 2011 20:44:42PM**

**To: Anastasia Grey**

Do not move!

C

X

Christian Grey

Horny as fuck CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

* * *

Biting my lip and giggling I leap out of bed, throwing off my t-shirt and sliding my sweats down, kicking them across the room and loosening my hair to fall around my breasts.

I can hear him pounding up the staircase to come find me, mumbling to himself as he reaches the door. I quickly shove my laptop and his iPod to the floor, climbing back on to the bed and lying down, propping myself up on my elbows to look at him as he enters.

He stills as he enters the room, as if he has hit a brick wall, taking me in and trailing my body with his eyes. I narrow mine as I glare at him, my desperate attempt at being seductive. His mouth is open, forming the perfect O as he watches me sliding down the bed to reach him.

Looping my thumbs through the belt hoops of his jeans I pull him closer to me.

"I think you're wearing too many clothes." I mouth to him, moving to unzip his jeans.

"It seems I am. Think you can help me with Mrs Grey?" Smirking at me as I unbutton his trousers, I stare up at him through my lashes.

"It would be my pleasure, _sir_."


	44. Chapter 44

**Disclaimer: The characters portrayed in this story are those in E L James's Fifty Shades Trilogy, therefore they remain her property. The plot and themes in this story are those of the author. The author is in no way affiliated with James. No copyright infringement intended.**

**Warning: LEMON! ;)**

**Another chapter for you all! More coming on its way tomorrow!**

**Much love to you all, and I hope you enjoy! :) x**

* * *

I tug at his jeans, yanking them down with his Calvin Klein's, his throbbing length springing to life in front of me. Staring up at him through my lashes I watch him glaring at me, his grey eyes growing dark and carnal.

As if by instinct I run my fingers along him, up and down, then cupping my hand around him. He throws his head back as I fist him, relentlessly and with force.

"Fuck!"

I continue pumping him, waiting until he's there and taking him in my mouth. Sheathing my lips around my teeth I force his length to the back of my throat, and then suck hard as I pull away. I repeat this over and over, looking up at him coming undone, because of me. He starts to thrust, reaching around the back of my head and holding me in place. I take him over and over.

"Stop!"

Pulling himself out of me abruptly I jerk my head up to him, confused. He's ready; I know he is. The way he was trembling was enough to show me that. Dropping to his knees in front of me he grabs my face, pushing his tongue into my mouth and invading the spot he just vacated.

"I don't want to come in your mouth. Not now." Christian groans, continuing his onslaught in my mouth.

He lets his hands fall, tracing my neck and down my shoulders, meeting my hands resting on the edge of the bed. Knitting his fingers through mine and intertwining them he lowers me down on the bed, my back flush with the duvet below me. His mouth never leaves mine as he drops me, moving to slide himself between my thighs. He pushes my hands up to either side of my head.

"I've missed this. I missed you Ana." His voice is muted, painful even.

"Never again." I pant in between his kisses, gasping for air.

"Never." He releases me, his mouth leaving mine and staring into my eyes. Grey into blue. Equal.

"Never."

It's just us in this moment, no one or nothing else. Just me and him, and this. Our love.

Hitching my legs up his and reaching the top of his jeans I push them down his behind with my feet, pushing them down his legs. He shifts to help; eventually releasing my hands to shove his hands down to yank off his jeans and tossing them across the room over by my sweats.

Moving his hands up my thighs, caressing my bump as he continues up my body, he reaches my face and cups it again, his lips meeting mine and kissing me tenderly.

"I love your mouth."

"I love everything about you." I whisper honestly, Christian looking deep into my eyes.

"I know." His hand leaves my face, moving abruptly to my sex. "I love all of you."

I throw my head back into the duvet, his fingers circling me and pushing down. _Oh my God_…

"Christian –" I moan as he persists, ruthlessly. "Christian, please!"

Answering my plea he relaxes his fingers, tracing them down me and pushing one and then two fingers inside me.

"Ah!" I scream.

"I want to be inside you. I want to be inside what's mine." Groaning through gritted teeth he retreats his fingers, pushing the tip of his length inside me and waiting. _For what? My say so?_

"Yes… God, yes."

Sliding inside me, I take his whole length. Every inch of him embedded inside me. Pushing, thrusting and making me clench around him.

"Open your eyes."

I flicker my eyes open, meeting his gaze as he thrusts into me, propping himself up on his hands either side of my head, careful not to put his weight on my stomach.

"I want to watch you."

"Please…" _Oh God_.

"What Ana? What do you want?" Christian pulls out and slides back in again, circling his hips before repeating.

"Harder… Please!" Begging him. Begging for him to make me come.

Slamming harder into me with each time he pulls out I cry, screaming his name as he brings me to brink of climax.

"I can feel it, baby. Let it go. Come for me." His words the final straw, breaking my back and pushing me off the edge. I explode around him, spasms flashing through me and my walls closing down around him.

"Yes!"

Christian swivels his hips, twisting himself inside me and finding his own release. He calls out my name as he jerks, stilling inside me and pouring everything he has into me.

"Fuck!"

Pulling out of me quickly, causing me to wince, he collapses on to the bed beside me, as he has done each time to stop himself from lying completely on Blip. He worries about causing either of us pain.

We lie post-orgasm, savouring the moment side by side, both of us breathing heavily with our chests rising and falling rapidly. I move first, shifting to my side to face him and move into his chest, nuzzling my head in the crook of his armpit. Breathing in his smell – a mixture of sex, perspiration, body wash and Christian – I feel a few spasms writhe deep inside me.

"You. You are –"

"I know." I finish his words in my mind, the ones that match mine perfectly. Everything about it just… _perfect_.

Nuzzling into him and wrapping my arm around his chest I feel at home. This is where we belong. Always.

"I love you Ana. I cannot tell you enough." Christian moans, massaging my scalp with his long fingers.

"You don't need to tell me. All of this is enough. I know by the way you look at me."

"I will tell you every day of our lives how much I love you. And, I will tell Blip every day how much I love him and make it all up to him."

Twisting my head up to look at him I find his eyes, looking down at me solemn and weary.

"Make up for what?"

"For the way I behaved when you told me about him."

"Enough of that, Christian! You did what you needed to do. We were both scared and let's face it, he wasn't on the top of the priorities list, but you came back. You made it up to him by coming back." I trace my fingers over his bottom lip, the soft fullness of his lip flush under the tip.

"You are perfect."

I lower my head again, resting against his chest and feeling his heart beat under my ear. He's calm and content, savouring this moment and the tranquillity of this.

Now is a better time than ever. Surely he can't be angry after that? _Are you sure about that?_ My subconscious lingering in the doorway, stealing a glimpse between slatted fingers pressed against her eyes.

"Baby?"

"Hm…" Moaning, I feel his voice vibrate under my head.

"I was thinking, maybe we could go out for dinner next week?"

"Hm…" Christian moans again, I think that's about all I can get out of him right now as he comes down from his high. _Perfect, if he can't talk, he can't argue!_

"A nice restaurant in town?"

"Hm…"

"Great, how about Tuesday?" I nuzzle his chest, running my fingers through his copper strands of chest hair.

"Hm…" He repeats, his fingers continue to press against my scalp through my hair.

"That's that then. Dinner, Tuesday. Just you, me –" I jerk up from his chest. "And, Kate and Elliot." I whisper the latter, quicker and with haste.

"What?!"

I move before he has time to sit up, leaping across the bedroom and hiding in the bathroom, closing the door behind me.

"Ana?" His voice growing closer to the door. _Shit._

"In a minute." I call back moving to the toilet and lifting the lid, letting it clash against the back, making him think I need a break.

"Ana?" He calls again, turning the door knob.

"No! You can't come in!"

"What?"

"I will not have you watch me pee!"

I hear him huff as I pace the floor, waiting an appropriate amount of time to make it seem believable. It's harder than it seems, I mean, how long does a pee usually last for? Who counts that sort of thing?

Eventually plucking up the courage after several deep breaths I flush the unused toilet, lowering the lid back down and moving to the faucet, letting it run for a few seconds.

"Can I come in now?" Christian voice travelling through the door.

_Fuck._

"Okay." I mumble, facing the mirror in front of me as I wet my hands.

"Ana, what did I just agree to?"

I refuse to look up at him, using my peripheral vision to watch him entering the bathroom, gloriously naked and making his way to stand behind me.

"Huh?"

"Ana. What did you just say to me?" His voice is hard. Risking a glance I flicker my eyes up the mirror to look at him, his face is just as hard as his voice, cold as well.

"That we are having dinner on Tuesday. You can pick the restaurant." I add, trying to divert his attention and failing miserably.

"I got that part, but with who?"

"Elliot."

"And?" He presses, his eyes narrowing and glaring into the back of my head.

"Kate." I whisper her name, my voice breaking.

"Why?"

"What do you mean why? He's your brother." I grab the towel beside me, wiping my hands and turning off the faucet.

"Elliot, no problem. Kate?"

I move to leave the bathroom but he grabs me by the tops of my arms, stopping me from moving and forcing me to look at him.

"Christian, please?"

"I hope you know you'll be feeding me to the wolves by making me go to dinner with her?"

"Christian, she's apologised to me and I'm sure she'll apologise to you as well." His eyebrow arks showing his disagreement at that, and hinting at the lie burrowed deep in my voice. I know she won't apologise willingly.

"And if World War three begins?"

"Then we leave. Simple as that, but please try?"

His face is stern, his lips pressing hard into a line across his face and unchanged. I reach up on my toes, holding on to his shoulder for balance, to bring my lips to his. I kiss him lightly and often, starting at the corner of his mouth and trailing along the other side, finally making my way back to the centre.

"Please?"

I kiss him again, but he's stuck fast.

"For me?"

I press my lips to him again, trying to persuade him.

"Please?" I pout this time, offering him the best puppy dog eyes I can muster.

"Fine!" He relents, pushing me into his chest and pushing his mouth to mine. I can't hide the smile creeping across my lips underneath his. "But you owe me. Big time!"

"Whatever you want."_ I knew I'd crack him_.

_Ana 1 – 0 Fifty_

* * *

I'm warm. Christian warm.

Twisting my torso I look down through stinging eyes, he's lying with his head against my stomach, one arm draped over me and his leg pushed in between mine, holding me down. It takes so much to not run my fingers through his copper hair, splayed out in all manner of directions, his perfect 'just fucked' look. The light shining in from a small crack in the curtains brings out the lighter tones in his hair, flashing and reflecting the sun beautifully. Though I can't see his face I know how he looks, angelic and young. He always looks young in his sleep, childlike and free – not a rushed off his feet CEO.

I freeze as he stirs, nuzzling his face into my skin. Both of us lie naked under the duvet pooled around us, covering most of us bar my bare chest and his upper back.

"Good morning beautiful." He mumbles, lifting his head from my stomach and kissing me gently. His eyes shut and using his other senses to find my mouth.

"Good morning Mr Grey."

"How did you sleep?" Finally opening his eyes and moving to lie beside me, his head resting on the pillow next to me.

"Perfectly. You?"

"Like a baby. I always do when you're with me." Christian runs his fingers down the side of cheek. "You're warm."

"You would be too if you had a 28 year old grown man sprawled across you." I giggle, as he narrows his eyes at me, holding back his own laugh.

"That mouth Mrs Grey, will get you into trouble one of these days."

"It does already. That and my persistent eye rolling. It turns out some people don't like that." I wink at him, rolling on to my side to face him.

"I can't think of any reason why." He's unable to refrain from smiling this time, flashing his unique Fifty grin at me. "So, Mrs Grey, what is the plan today?"

"I told you yesterday!"

"I know, but I want a more detailed outline of today's events. I like to prepare for these things, what if there's a dress code?" His smirk sends a shiver down my spine.

"Well, you can either where sweats or pyjama pants."

"All day? In pyjama pants?"

"Yup. All day."

"Okay, that's dress code. What else?" Christian shifts beside me, pushing his arm underneath the pillow and propping it up higher to get more comfortable.

"We'll need to shower first, then we'll need breakfast and then for the rest of the day we are moving into the family room. We'll need blankets, cushions and junk food."

"Junk food?" He raises his eyebrow with concern; I know how much he hates junk food. His idea of a snack is fruit!

"You can't have a movie day without junk food. Popcorn, chocolate, candy, the works!"

"What kind of movies?"

"We can take it in turns to pick one. But I bag the first one!"

"Please not some stupid romance where you spend half the film wishing them to get together, only to get to the end and realise they were better apart because they're both assholes!" He moans in disgust. My mind flicks back to the last movie we watched, back in the TV room at Escala. It was some cheesy British movie with Hugh Grant, and Christian moaned through the whole film.

"Hey! I liked that movie! Anyway, you can put on whatever you want when it's your turn to decide!" I push myself up from the bed, the duvet falling to my hips.

"And why do you get to choose first?"

I turn to face him, twisting my body. "Women and children first." I giggle, running my hand across my bump.

* * *

Wiping my eyes with the corner of the blanket wrapped around me I sniff loudly. _Why did I choose such a sad movie_? Pregnancy hormones and sad films not a good combination!

"Are you crying?"

I can feel Christian twist behind me. We're lying on the couch, Christian lying on his side behind me, holding me. I was suspicious of whether the couch was big enough for both of us to lie side by side until I came downstairs, remembering our big it is. This couch could house a family of four with room for more!

"No!" I pout, hiding my face and trying to compose myself.

"You are, aren't you?" He reaches around with his fingers, turning me to face him. "Baby, it's just a film! I don't think the dog died in reality!"

"I know that, I'm not stupid. It's just sad." I push the blanket up to my face, hiding my eyes from him as the tears continue to fall.

"Oh Ana, come here!" Pulling me into his chest he holds me, rubbing my back in rhythmic circles. "It's just a movie; we can put something else on."

"Nothing sad." I mumble. I doubt I can handle another tear-jerker, this being the fourth that we've watched today. To say my emotions have taken a battering is an understatement!

"Nothing sad, I promise."

I lie back as he clambers over me graciously, his pyjama pants hanging perfectly. I watch him move around the floor, gliding over the cushions and DVD's strewn all over the place. The room is a mess, food and drinks everywhere but it's nice. It's perfect. This is the perfect day.

"Inception?" He holds up one DVD in his hand, looking through the shelves upon shelves of movies we have. "Or Mission Impossible?" Turning to face me he pouts.

"You choose. It's your turn."

"Quite frankly I couldn't care less, so you choose."

We stare at each other, neither of us willingly to make the decision, only interrupted when the doorbell rings through the house loudly. I jolt up from the couch, moving first and claiming it.

"I'll get it!"

I laugh as he rolls his eyes at me, watching me as I sashay out of the room and down the hall. I adjust my t-shirt and pull my cardigan around me before I get to the door, opening it in a swift movement without looking out of the spy hole first.

"Sup sis?"

"Elliot?"

Elliot comes pounding towards me, throwing his arms around me and lifting me in the air, swirling me before setting me back down.

"How's that little bruiser in there?"

"He's good. What are you doing here?" I question him.

"Well, I was hoping I could come in, steal some of your food and pester that brother of mine." He flashes his perfect teeth at me, his blue eyes wide and full of mischief.

"Come on in –" I move aside, allowing him to enter. "He's in the family room." I gesture with my hands down the hall, closing the door and locking it before catching up behind him.

Reaching the room Christian pushes off the ground with his feet, holding a DVD in his hand and the remote in the other.

"We're watching Fight Club." He mumbles, fixing his eyes to the screen.

"Sounds good bro, what we eating?"

"What the fuck?" Christian twists sharply to see Elliot resting against the door frame beside me; his arms cross against his front. "Ana, did your Mom not warn you about letting crazy fuckers into the house?"

"Who the fuck you calling crazy?"

I stand back watching them burst into a fit of laughter, launching themselves at one another, starting with a manly, one armed embrace and ending with a shoving contest.

"So, what the hell you doing here?" Christian blurts out, settling down on the couch next to me, throwing his arm around the back of me.

"Ah, I told Ana. I came here to annoy the fuck out of you and eat all your food!"

"Real reason?"

Elliot's face drops, the grin falling and replaced with a fixed expression.

"Elliot?"

"I needed out of it for a while, she's driving me fucking insane!" He grunts, pushing his hair out of his face in a Christian Grey manner.

"Who?"

"Kate! She's a fucking nightmare today!"

"Why? What's wrong with her?" I squeak growing concerned.

"Well, when I took her home on Thursday, she was moaning and bitching non-stop so I said to her 'babe, quit it', then she flew at me. I left her to it and went back to my old place, called her yesterday and she seemed alright, went over today and she's running around like a headless fucking chicken!"

"Is she okay?" I shift forward, lowering both of my feet on to the floor.

"Yeah, she's good just insane! She's going OTT on wedding shit, I mean all I said to her was that we've got months to plan so I didn't know why she's going all fucking postal now, and that's when she flipped!"

"Seriously Elliot? You walked out because Kate shouted at you?" Christian mocks him, ruffling his hair.

"Fuck off yeah? She threw the fucking phone book at me!"

_What the hell?_

"Elliot, how was she when you left?" I ask him, rising to my feet and staring down at him.

"Quiet, she practically ignored me."

"Okay, that's it I'm going to see her."

Manoeuvring the junk spread across the floor I make my way out of the room, heading in the direction of the stairs.

"Ana, what are you doing?" Christian calls after me, rushing to my side and stopping me in my tracks before I can bolt up the stairs.

"I'm going to see her."

"I thought today was about us?" He pouts staring back at me.

"Christian, she needs me. I'm sorry, but I need to talk to her."

"I know, I'll drive you."

"What?"

"Ana, you are not driving and there's no point in getting someone else to drive you when I can."

I nod my head, agreeing with him and continue to race upstairs.

I change into some jeans and throw on a sweater, tying back my hair and slipping into a pair of converse. Christian dresses quicker than I do, throwing on a t-shirt and some jeans.

"Christian, you know you can't go inside with me?"

"You think I want to if she's crazy? What's she going to throw at me, a fucking table?"

I repress the urge to laugh, focusing on the task in hand. I need to make sure she's okay and get her talking.


	45. Chapter 45

**Disclaimer: The characters portrayed in this story are those in E L James's Fifty Shades Trilogy, therefore they remain her property. The plot and themes in this story are those of the author. The author is in no way affiliated with James. No copyright infringement intended.**

**Sorry for not posting anything yesterday! Made a bad decision relating to a few bottles of wine, resulting in the much dreaded hangover! **

**Anyway, thanks again and I hope you enjoy! **

**More on its way later! Promise!**

**Much Love! :) x**

* * *

Taking my hand Christian leads me downstairs, grabbing his phone and keys from the cabinet next to our bed as we exit. I'm being pulled into the unknown; not knowing what sort of state Kate is going to be, or how she's going to react to seeing me. She was apologetic but that was behind a keyboard and computer screen, who's to say she'll be the same in person?

Handing me one of his jackets I slip my arms into it, pulling it around me and breathing in his faint smell lingering on the fabric.

"Where you off to?"

I turn around from the door, seeing Elliot staring back as us bemused. With our half empty bowl of popcorn tucked under his arm, throwing some in his mouth and edging closer to us I realise he meant what he said – he really did come here to eat our food!

"Kate's." Christian mumbles from beside me, moving behind to reach the door.

"Really? Both of you?"

Catching a glimpse of Christian's 'if I had a choice' look he's throwing over to Elliot, I roll my eyes and do up the zipper of his jacket. It just about fits, snug around my stomach. _Jeez, this is four months?_ I'm going to be whale by the time he's ready to come out!

"Good luck!" Elliot flashes a grin over to us, throwing another handful of popcorn into his mouth with precision. "Hey, when she rips your head off can I have the house?"

"Yeah sure, you want my company as well? You know, complete the set?"

"Nah, I don't get all that shit. Paperwork and all that, not my scene."

"Of course, you're a 'let's play with Lego' sort of guy aren't you?" Christian retorts.

I giggle, biting down on my lip to stop me from falling apart at the banter between them. In an attempt to prevent it from escalating further I shove Christian out of the door, fully aware of how this could end up. While it's nice that they can laugh and joke with one another, Elliot always goes a step too far. He knows how to push Christian's buttons and drive him crazy, something that in turn drives me crazy! Moody Fifty is the bane of my life.

I call back to Elliot before closing the door behind us, asking him not to root around our home and to try to leave us with some food in the refrigerator.

Christian took me straight over to my Saab, for a second I got my hopes up that he might have had a moment of weakness and decided to let me drive – I should've known better.

"Why don't we take one of your cars then?" I pout at him, sliding in the passenger side and slamming the door behind me.

"Because I like driving your cars."

"I thought you liked driving the R8?"

"I do, but I've yet to drive your convertible. I like to switch it up sometimes." He flashes his boyish grin over to me, elegantly pulling the car out of the drive and speeding down the blocks leading us to the freeway. I feel safe knowing that he has complete control, similar to the way he does in Charlie Tango.

"Christian?"

"Yeah baby?"

"You know when Blip's here, can I drive again?"

He turns his head towards me for a second, shrugging his shoulder and moving his attention back to the road.

"Come on! Why won't you let me drive now? There are tonnes and tonnes of women out there who drive every single day of their pregnancy!" I snap at him, regrettably able to pre-empt his response. He has an answer for everything.

"Ana, you know why."

"Care to enlighten me again?"

With a loud exhalation of breath he blinks hard, almost as if he's calming himself.

"What if something happens to you? You break down, you're in an accident or you go into labour? Or worse? At least if you're being driven I know someone will be able to get you to help, or at least call me if I'm not there." I can see his fingers gripping the wheel as he stiffens, the idea of me getting into trouble painful for him. "I've told you, I'm going to be there for everything."

"I know. I'm sorry." I shrug and roll my head against the headrest, moving to stare out of my window. _I hate it when he makes a perfectly reasonable point!_

Weaving in out of the slow drivers Christian mumbles under his breath, cursing at them. What is it with everyone around me recently? Everyone is changing. _Or is it just me?_

Pulling up outside Kate's apartment, my old apartment, Christian brings my car to a stop. Switching off the engine and unbuckling his seatbelt he slumps back in his chair, twisting his head to stare at me. I mirror him, undoing my seatbelt and adjusting my position.

"Are you sure you want do this?" He asks, sensing the apprehension in my guise.

"I have to. Even if she goes postal at me, I still need to know she's okay."

"Just be careful." His words stern and forceful; a demand, not a simple gesture.

"I will." I heave myself over to him, awkwardly manoeuvring the gear stick to reach him. "I just need to find out what the hell has gotten into her recently."

"I sure as hell know what she needs in her. We should've brought Elliot with us."

I swat him with my hand, pouting and narrowing my eyes as he feigns injury. "You really do think sex solves everything, don't you?"

"It always makes me feel better."

"You need professional help, _sir_." I purr at him, over-emphasising the latter and watching him squirm in front of me, pulling at his jeans growing tight around his bulging erection.

"I do believe we have yet to christen this car, why don't you hop on over here and rock my world, baby?"

"As much as I would love to, I have something I need to do first. Rain check?"

"That's not a no then?" Narrowing his eyes at me in wonder and raising his eyebrows to examine me, I pucker my lips.

"What can I say? Car sex is phenomenal."

I shuffle closer to him and kiss him swiftly on the cheek before sliding out of the car. I leave my shiny convertible and Christian, stumbling up the sidewalk and making my way to the apartment complex. It feels like a lifetime since I was last here, wondering if anything will have changed now that Elliot has affectively moved in, only retreating back to his apartment when incidents like the other night creep up and slap everyone in the face.

I've spent a handful of nights here since moving to Seattle, a thought that's disturbing. In less than a year my life has been a whirlwind; nothing is how I imagined it. I thought I would come here, get a job and hope things with Christian would work out. Now I'm married, pregnant and in charge of a publishing house? I'm not little old Ana anymore. I left her behind the day he put that ring on my finger. That was probably the last night I spent here - the night before my wedding. I think back to that night, sleeping in my old bed for the last time and waking up at 4AM in a cold sweat. I knew I wanted to marry him, that wasn't in question, but the idea that by the end of the day I would no longer be Miss Steele was frightening. When I walked out of this apartment that morning, heading over to Bellevue, I became Mrs Christian Grey. I became a wife, _his wife_. I panicked about losing my identity but Kate was the one who calmed me down. She pulled my hair out of my face when I was vomiting at my Bachelorette party; she told me everything would be okay and helped me slip into my wedding dress, and sent me off into the unknown. She's always been there for me, and I'm here for her if she'll have me.

I ring the intercom for her, having left my key to the apartment at home; the key she insisted I keep hold on to for emergencies.

"Use your fucking key!" Her voice explodes over the intercom, startling me.

"I-It's me!" I blurt out, shouting back to her.

"Ana?"

"Yeah, let me in?"

"Yeah, hold on a sec!" She calls back, calmer and less intimidating.

I step back slightly from the door, looking over to Christian and rolling my eyes seeing him messing around with his BlackBerry. He seriously can't go a day without using that thing!

Opening the door slowly Kate emerges into my eye-line. Her hair is pulled into a loose ponytail, dishevelled with flyaways all over the place. Her eyes are tired, red-ringed with bags piling up under them. I flicker my eyes down, grateful and slightly relieved to see her in something other than those pink pyjamas.

"Hi."

"Hey." She replies, her voice quiet and broken. "What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to see how you are. Elliot came over."

"What's he told you? Told you how much of a bitch I am? Coz guess what? I already know."

Turning her back on me Kate shuffles back into the apartment, leaving the door wide open. I throw a glance back to Christian and step inside, closing the door behind me and stunned by what I'm faced with.

The apartment is in almost total darkness, the only light coming from the plasma mounted on the wall and her laptop, open on the couch. Everything resembles the result of mine and Christian's day in the family room – a complete mess. There are newspapers and magazines everywhere, covering every counter, sideboard and object in sight. Clothes shield the floor beneath my feet, surrounded by empty food cartons_. Is this just a day's ruin?_

"I'm sorry about the mess. If I'd have known you were coming –"

I hold my hand up to her as she sinks into the couch, pushing her laptop to the floor and draping herself in a blanket.

"I'm here to see you, not your apartment." I skip over the mess, joining her on the couch. "Besides, you should see the state of our place!"

"You have a housekeeper."

"Only during the week. Mrs Jones has weekends off." I smile at her, trying to break the awkwardness between us and bringing my legs up on to the couch.

"So, how are you?" I break first.

"Why do you care?"

"What?" I jerk my head back, staring at her and trying to read her face. Her face is pale and empty.

"Why are you even bothering with me? Why should you care? Everyone else fucking hates me, what's one more to add to the list?"

"Kate, no one hates you." I reach out to grab her hand but she pulls away, tugging it back under her blanket.

"Well, first there's Grace – she can't stand me, she never has. She's all 'you're nothing like Ana'. Mia won't return my calls and Elliot, well he fucked off!"

A little hurt by her rejection I twist my fingers in front of me, twirling my wedding ring around my finger and trying to figure out what to say.

"I'm sure Grace and Mia will come around and as for Elliot, he loves you. He only left because you went all Bridezilla on him!"

"Like you'd fucking know? Ana, all you care about is that fucking bastard out there!"

"Kate!" I pull my legs from underneath me and swing them around, making to stand and retreat from her attack. "Don't say that about him!"

"Oh I get it now! He's apologised and said he won't do it again, you've run into his open arms and believed his bullshit?"

"What the fuck? Look Kate, I'm sorry for dragging you in on all of this. I should've kept my mouth shut." I move to leave, kicking the mess out of my way as I storm across the room.

"Ana, I apologise for the way I acted, maybe I should've gone about it differently but I'd do it again in a heartbeat."

I spin to face her, watching her as she jumps off the couch heading towards me.

"Why? Why does it matter to you if I was angry with Christian? Why do you feel the need to jump in?"

"Because ever since that bastard waltzed into your life, he has fucked everything up!"

I open my mouth to fire back at her but she shoots me down straight away.

"No Ana, he has. You can't see it because you're so far up his fucking ass and caught up in the whirlwind of Christian fucking Grey! He has done nothing but hurt you since you met him!"

"That's bullshit!" I scream back to her, causing her to jolt backwards from my outburst.

"Like fuck it is! First he fucked you over with all that sick shit wanting to beat you up and then fuck you senseless, and then you spent how long moping around until he fucked you over again with that psycho bitch that could've killed you! Then that fucker Hyde put you in hospital and now his ex-paedophile lover is screwing you over!"

Moving towards me she reaches out with her hands, taking me by the arms. "Ana, he's controlling you. He won't let you do anything for yourself and you're letting him."

"Not that it is any of your business, but I knew what I was getting into when I married him. I love Christian." I shrug out of her hold, pushing her back and off of me. "He's not the one hurting me."

"What?"

"Kate, no matter what Christian thinks of you he has never insulted you. He has never bitched and called you disgusting names in front of me. Why? Because he loves me and respects the fact that you're my friend!"

Kate gestures to respond to me but I fire back into her before she can get another word out. The anger pent-up inside me uncontrollable right now!

"I've already said that I shouldn't have bothered you with my business. I especially regret it considering the way you behaved! Did you honestly think it would make things better by attacking him? I get that you were pissed at him. I even came here ready to forgive you for that, but now that I'm here you're giving me more reason to walk away and tell you go fuck yourself!"

"I wanted to help you, I hate seeing you hurt because of him."

"The only way you can help me right now is to stop insulting my husband. Would you stand back and listen to me slag off Elliot all the time?"

Shifting her weight on her feet she lowers her eyes, the realisation hitting her. "You would never do that to me. With all of the douchebag's I've dated you never once bitched about them."

"I need to go." I mumble, regaining myself and heading straight for the door. I need to get out of this.

"Ana, please! Don't go, I'm sorry." Jumping in front of me she forces herself up against the door, barricading me in. "Tell me what I can do to make this right. Please Ana, I don't want to lose you!"

"Kate, I need some space. We both do, because right now I'm pissed off to the fucking max!"

"Where does this leave us then?"

"I'll call you about Tuesday."

"What?"

"Dinner. We're going to dinner on Tuesday, all of us." I answer her plainly, all of my emotions exhausted.

"Christian?"

"Yes. All of us. We're family and we need to resolve this at some point. I'll call you with more information."

Attempting a weak smile of gratitude she moves out of the way, opening the door for me and moving to grab my arm. I want to swat her away but I can't. I'm caught in a conflict of my feelings – anger from hearing her insult the most important person in my life, and my love for her as the closest thing I've had to a sister.

"I am sorry. I love you Ana." Stroking my arm I twist my head to her, my blank expression unchanged.

"I know."

Leaving the apartment and emerging out on to the street I keep my eyes to the ground, walking swiftly to the car and slipping into the passenger side. I managed to reach the car before Christian had time to jump out and greet me.

"Ana?"

I fasten my seatbelt, pulling it around my stomach and protecting me and Blip.

"Baby, is everything okay?" Christian pulls me towards him, cupping my chin and forcing my face to him.

"Fine."

"I know when you're hiding something Ana. Has she done something?" His voice shifts with concern, jolting his head over to the apartment and scowling at the closed door.

"Can we just go home now? I'm tired and need a bath."

"Are you going to tell me what happened?"

"Later. I just need some time. I'll be fine by the time we get home." I smile at him, hoping to reassure him. Returning my smile, stroking the underside of my chin following it down my neck he pulls away, leaving my skin tingling and sensitive.

Pulling away my convertible from the sidewalk and Kate's apartment I cling to his hand, trapping his fingers in between mine and rubbing my fingers against his. I let my mind filter everything out as I stare out of the windscreen at the backlights of the car in front.

_It will be okay. Please tell me it will be okay._

Giving my hand a squeeze I turn my head to Christian, his smile rising slightly higher on the right side and perfect grey glancing at me through the corner of his eye.

"It will be. Trust me."


	46. Chapter 46

**Disclaimer: The characters portrayed in this story are those in E L James's Fifty Shades Trilogy, therefore they remain her property. The plot and themes in this story are those of the author. The author is in no way affiliated with James. No copyright infringement intended.**

**Much longer chapter for you guys. I felt like I neglected you by not posting anything yesterday! **

**Another chapter on its way soon! In the process of writing it now, hopefully it will be up in a few hours!**

**Much love and I hope you enjoy! :) x**

* * *

Trundling through the hallway of our home, making my way straight to our kitchen in need of a hot cup of Twinning's finest, I throw Christian's jacket on to the floor without care for who might have to pick it up after me.

We drove in silence on the way home, Christian holding on to my hand and manoeuvring us through the late evening Seattle traffic. I was surprised - as much as I could be after the emotional overload with Kate - to see so many drivers on the road. For a Saturday it was unfathomable to watch as we passed car after car, until a part of my mind clicked – thanksgiving home-comers; everyone rushing to come home in time for the post-holiday blues, and the frantic prep for Christmas.

I feel a warm pair of hands creep under my shirt, moving slowly from my sides and around to my stomach. Nuzzling his head into my neck and pulling me close against his chest I feel at home. I feel calmer and imperturbable.

"You okay baby?"

I nod my head, focusing on my tea – taking out a cup from the cabinet and a fresh teabag ready for its brawl with the water heating on the stove. It's hard to go about this simple task with Christian tagging along for the ride, slowing me down and making every movement that little bit harder.

"Sure?"

I nod again, pushing my hips back into him and signalling him to release me as I make a grab for the hot water. He obliges, slipping his soft fingers away from my skin and pulling my shirt down to resume its previous position.

"I have some papers I need to look over, do you mind if I go and check them out. I promise I won't be long." Standing close behind me, stalking me like his prey, his soft and gentle words ooze through to my ears and hit my core, echoing a chill down my spine.

"Sure." I mumble, turning my head to the side and offering a weak smile to him. It's about all I can muster right now, my body shutting down around me and in need of warmth.

With Christian heading off to the left, to his study, I shuffle down the hall in the opposite direction, heading back to my dwelling for the day. The family room is how we left it, with the small addition of Elliot sprawled across _our_ couch, _our_ candy on his stomach with one hand shovelling some into his waiting mouth and the other gripped hard around _our_ remote, flicking through meaningless television. Seeing me enter he makes to sit up but I stop him, smiling and moving across the room to sink into one of the luxurious armchairs. I say armchair, it's the size of a normal persons couch! Gia insisted that we needed it, 'completing the set', though now I'm grateful in being able to retreat to the seclusion of my own seat: a cushioned shield barricading me in, and protecting me from having to sit near anyone. I cup my hands around the scorching cup, the heat and slight pain not registering in my mind as I bask in its smell and taste.

"So, how did it go?"

I lift my eyes up to Elliot, finding him staring up at me from his lounge position, his head upside down and hair hanging loose against the side of the couch.

"How do you think it went?" I ark my eyebrow to him, taking another sip of my tea and bringing the cushion from behind me around to my front, spreading it across my lap and resting my cup against it.

"Did she throw anything?"

"No, just bitched and pissed me off. I left before it got any worse."

"Shit!" Sitting up and bringing his feet to the floor Elliot turns to meet me, his face full of sympathy.

"I think maybe it would be a good idea for you to head over there. You know, keep her company and what not? She might need you."

"I suppose I should." Rubbing his face and pushing his blonde hair from his face he makes to stand, pushing up with both hands on his knees. "How exactly did she piss you off?"

"By insulting your brother."

"Again?!" Exclaiming and adjusting his t-shirt to cover his midriff he rolls his eyes, shaking his head with disbelief. "That's why I left her to it on Thursday. I mean, I get Christian can be a bit… _extreme_ sometimes but he's still my bro."

Exchanging a knowing glance I shake my head, my shoulders rising into a shrug as he pounds over to me, lowering himself and wrapping his arms around my torso.

"I guess I'll see you Tuesday?"

"Where did you –" I trail off, pulling my head back from his shoulder to question him.

"Christian told me your plan. Though, might be a death wish getting those two in the same room! You missed it all on thanksgiving having flaked out upstairs; it was like watching Tyson and Holyfield in the ring!"

"I'll take your word for it!" I chuckle, Elliot swooping to kiss my cheek and hoisting himself back to his feet.

"Hey, keep your hands off my wife."

Twisting our heads we watch as Christian glides into the room, effortlessly reaching my side and perching himself on the arm of my chair, a grin splashed across his face.

"Bro, I don't know how to tell you this, but me and Ana… we're a thing now."

I break into a fit of giggles, Elliot trying to keep a hard and serious expression.

"So you commandeer my home and my wife now?"

"What can I say? It's what I do!" His lips curl around his teeth, flashing his perfect smile to Christian, and winking his mirror of Kate's blue at me.

"No, what you're doing is getting the fuck out of my house."

"Jeez, I know where I'm not wanted!" He huffs with hilarity and reaches out for Christian, slipping his arm around his shoulder for a masculine exchange. "Laters."

Christian calls after him, stopping him just before he made his exit from the room. "Oh, Elliot?"

"Huh?"

"Stop rooting through my fucking office when I'm not here."

"Fuck, how did you know?" Elliot's face drops, his plan of snooping around our home undetected, failing before his eyes and his voice going up an octave.

"Because you're a moron who didn't expect me to notice a smudge on my papers. What the fuck were you eating?"

"Bit of everything. But, as much as I'd fucking love to stay here all night, I have a woman waiting on the Elliot."

Gyrating his hips to simulate some horrendous dancing or sex act I throw my hand over my eyes, twisting my neck to push my head into Christian's arms. I feel him shake, laughing from the sight and relaxing when the door closes loudly behind Elliot.

"So, Mrs Grey –" His fingers tangle in my hair, lifting my head from his arm and bringing my eyes to meet his. "What would you like to do? I'm all yours again."

"What did you need to do in your office?"

"Just a few spread sheets that needed a bit of re-structuring. Why?"

"No reason, I was just curious." I smile through the corner of my mouth and reach up with my fingers to trace his jaw. "I want a bath, mind-blowing sex, to then snuggle into you and fall asleep."

"In that order?" A trace of a smirk lingering across his lips.

"Preferably."

* * *

I twist and turn in front of the mirror, the swash of fabric hanging around my stomach swaying as I move. I feel uncomfortable with the amount of material loose in front of me. I'm wearing one of the newer additions to my wardrobe; a grey chiffon, halter neck dress. The empire line pulls in what little waist I have, collecting just before my stomach protrudes and swells in front of me. It sits just before my knee, shorter than originally expected - my recent growth spurt the culprit.

_I feel fat. I look fat._

The 'ingenious' panelling and waterfall front is designed to hide and cover my stomach, and it does just that. My issue being that it hides it too well, the excess material covering up a 'problem area', hinting to others that I've been packing away a few too many donuts and not been visiting the gym. I want people to know I'm pregnant.

Staring at myself I exhale, moving from the dress to my hair. I've tried to pull it back into an up-style to no prevail. Leaving it to fall long around my chest, I make a note to get a haircut at some point. Maybe Mia knows of a good stylist? I really don't want to go to Franco as long as he is working for bitch troll. I'd rather die than feed money into her pocket. But most of all, I need something doing to it. It's lost the shape that it used to have, needing some sort of layering.

"You look…"

I spin on my heel, Christian gawping at me with his mouth open wide. He takes my breath away with how he looks right now; his grey slacks co-ordinating with my dress and a crisp white shirt open at the collar, his suit jacket thrown over his shoulder. Under his arm is a white box, thought it's the most insignificant part of him.

"Fat?" I drone, looking down at the tent I'm wearing. I wish that Neiman's had a maternity range instead of having to have the clothes altered, resulting in additional material incorporated into an otherwise stunning dress.

"Beautiful."

I turn back to look in the floor length mirror beside our large dresser. I pull the material in at my waist, revealing my stomach and twisting to look at myself from a profile view. _Maybe I should change?_

"You look stunning. Blip looks amazing in it too."

Christian glides across the floor coming up behind me and pushing his hands under my arms, cradling me and pulling me back into his chest. Nuzzling his face into my hair and allowing his fingers to glide over the chiffon against my abdomen he moans, deep from within his chest.

"You. Are. Perfect. In. Every. Way." He breathes in between each kiss he plants on my neck, having exposed my neck from underneath my hair. He moves his lips, trailing gentle and succulent kisses along my neck and reaching that spot just behind my ear, that spot that has a direct line to my pelvis.

I stare at us in the mirror, Christian barely visible as he tickles my skin with his lips and slight stubble, partly hidden under a few locks of my hair falling in front of his face. I stand so much smaller than him without heels on, Christian having to stoop down to nestle me.

"You are not changing out of this." He moans, lifting his lips from my skin to order me. "You look beautiful and I can't wait to peel you out of this later."

"You're sure?"

"Never been surer in my life, except maybe when I asked you to marry me."

"I'll take your word for it then." I roll my fingers over his and try to step out of his hold, only for him to tighten his grip.

"Just a few seconds longer." Christian moans against me, running his nose over my neck and collarbone, his erection pressing into my lower back through the security of his slacks.

My skin is sensitive under his touch, my blood rising to the surface and sending my muscles into a writhing spasm, shuddering through my lower abdomen and pelvis.

"The car's waiting –"

Pulling away from me in a lightning quick motion I'm left hanging, needing more, and feeling deflated from his separation from my neck and waist.

Christian retreats from the closet, scooping up the box he had dropped to the floor before taking me in his hold and places it in front of me on the dresser. I watch him as he saunters around me, his cologne whispering past me and delighting my nostrils with his faint scent. Waiting for him to exit I move over to the box, opening it and finding a pair of suede heels in nude. _He always takes care of my shoes._ Without fail they fit and are insanely comfortable; it's like walking on marshmallows, sashaying around the room with ease and euphoria.

I pinched my cheeks adding a splash of colour before making my exit, making one last ditch attempt at assuring myself I will look okay. Christian's words ring in my ears, almost enough to convince me. Entering the hallway Christian has his Blackberry glued to his ear, sternly ordering whomever is on the other end to 'just deal with it'. Noticing me in the corner of his eye he ends the call, shoving his phone into the inside pocket of his jacket and pretending like nothing happened.

"Ready?" He holds out his arm for me, fingers outstretched and waiting for me to splay mine in the spaces.

"I guess." Mumbling through pursed lips and accepting his offer.

Guiding me out to the SUV he opens my door, Taylor greeting us with a smile as we slide in. With reverence I allow Christian to secure my seatbelt, something he requests to do but rarely has the opportunity, more times than not because I have tackled it myself trying to regain some independence. I love his ways and how he always wants to help, but even I can fasten my seatbelt properly. Pregnancy hasn't affected my ability to tackle even the smallest of tasks, though my hormone and stress levels have taken a considerable battering.

_Do you get a kick out of making Mommy emotional? _I smile, running my fingers over my stomach and feeling a flutter – Teddy's reply, a firm yes!

Strumming my fingers over my purse resting in my lap Christian reaches over, clamping on to my hands to interrupt me. I whisk my eyes up to him, his eyes assuring and offering some comfort. I lose myself in his grey; his soothing pools of light.

"It's going to be fine."

"I hope so."

* * *

I fidgeted throughout the ride over to The Fairmont Olympic hotel, Christian's choice for dinner this evening. I had no input on his decision, once again Christian reminding me how I 'rendered' his thinking and control useless with my 'temptress ways'. He seemed to enjoy it though, grateful for another chance to get me naked and have his wicked way with me – something neither of us complain over!

The last time I spoke to Kate was a brief call yesterday morning before work, telling her where and when we'd be having dinner. She was enthusiastic and seemed happy to hear from me. I tried to engage with her but she ended to call early, insisting that I should go and get to work being already fifteen minutes late. I took it as a pleasant gesture, maybe she was in a rush herself for work? But I couldn't help but think maybe she was concerned over the way things were the last time we spoke to one another. That heated conflict most definitely at the forefront of both our minds, making me ever more anxious of this meeting.

Christian booked a table for us in _The Georgian_ dining room; a petite dining room with few tables, probably only enough seats for a dozen people. The maître d' escorted us straight through, jumping to attention as soon as Christian sauntered through the lobby doors. It was all 'Yes Mr Grey', 'Can I get you anything Mr Grey?' and 'anything for you Mr Grey'. I just stood back and rolled my eyes, Christian shrugging off the attention as he has always done. For someone with such power he doesn't relish in the attention – something that adds to my ever-expanding love for him.

The room is absolutely stunning in all white and cream. The intimate dining tables a fair distance from one another creating that much needed privacy that everyone craves. Large crystal chandeliers hang beautifully from the ceiling, like dripping diamonds beaming a diffuse light through the lengthy room, setting an air of romance and formality. By far the most intriguing, and somewhat daunting, features in the room are the large vases, overflowing green life extending down over the rims and adding yet more arrogance to the scene. While the room is beautiful, formal and opulent, I feel detached and out-of-place. I'd be happier having takeout and trying to ease the tension between us from the comforts of our couch, though I know why Christian has brought us here – a public place where certain behaviours are expected, therefore more pressure to keep the mood lively and away from the shouting and bawling experienced at thanksgiving.

As we enter I find them immediately; the two blondes sitting adjacent to one another and fixed in conversation. I find myself concentrating more on my breathing as we reach the table, gripping Christian's hand and holding on for dear life. _Just keep calm. You can do this._

"Elliot. Kate."

Christian greets them as we meet the table, moving to pull out my chair for me, much to the displeasure of our waiter.

"Sincerest apologies if you have been waiting long for us." He nods his head to them, moving to his own seat, near mine, after settling me down.

"No, we've only just arrived." Kate responds, smiling at Christian then adjusting her eyes to me. "You both look amazing, especially you Ana."

I fidget in my seat, forcing the cloth napkin to my lap avoiding the persistent waiter trying to attend to me. I flash him a glare, warning him off, before turning to look at Christian, fixing his own napkin and scowling at him with that 'touch my wife and I'll fucking kill you' death stare that he has perfected well.

"Thank you, though I don't feel it." I mumble, forcing a smile. "But you look great."

Kate's wearing a sapphire blue, strapless dress though I can't see it all, but I know it will fit her like a glove, compliment her curves and add to her beauty. She could quite easily wear a sack and look stunning.

"Ana, you look beautiful." She smiles, reaching out with her hand to stroke the back of mine.

She moves to say something but the already pissing me off waiter makes an unwelcome return, setting down menus for us to look over. _French restaurant?_

"It's one of the finest. That and I have a flavour for French finery." Christian smirks to me. _Seriously, how does he do that?_

"Do you want to choose, or shall I?" He speaks over his menu, looking at me with intent.

"You choose. You know my tastes better than I do." I close my menu, handing it back to the waiter.

"Two of the Olympic Caesar salads followed by the roasted rack of lamb." Christian snaps his menu shut, forcing it into the hands of the waiter without removing his eyes from me. He barely looked at the menu.

"Yes, of course sir. And, for the rest of your party?" He gestures to Kate and Elliot, twisting to harass them.

"The same, we trust your tastes brother." Elliot answers him, moving his attention to Kate for approval.

"A bottle of the 2002 Roederer Cristal Rosé, and a sparkling water." Christian fires at the waiter with precision, ordering the $700 bottle for the three of them, the water for the knocked up whale in the grey tent.

Departing the table bemused and sharply, the waiter stalks off to place our order and to return with our drinks, leaving the table in silence. The tension is evident and clear as day. _Someone please say something!_

"Thank you for inviting us to dinner." Kate breaks first, keeping her eyes low and only flicking them up to Christian when she's finished.

"It's a pleasure, besides we need to shift through this. Kate, you are going to be my family when you marry my brother and the last thing I wish for is animosity between us. That and we both share the same person dear to us."

I blink up to him, growing uncomfortable with this.

"I would like to take this opportunity to apologise to you, Kate, for the way I've behaved."

"Chris-" Kate interrupts him, placing her hands on the table but he halts her.

"Please, let me continue." His reply kind and sincere, a world away from his harsh and usually callous reactions. "I made a promise to you, that I wouldn't cause Ana any harm or hurt. I haven't adhered to that and I apologise. It was never my intention to do that, far from it.

"I love Ana with all my heart; my world starts and ends with her. I know I have behaved appallingly and deserve this hostility from you, but I hate that yours and Ana's friendship has been compromised because of this. You are my wife's closest and dearest friend, soon to be my sister and hopefully a confidante. I am not begging for your forgiveness, simply because I do not deserve it, but I hope that we are able to move past this, for Ana's sake if not our own."

Christian fixes his attention to Kate, speaking with elegance and affluence. Every word is precise, controlled and well thought out as if he has practiced this, though I know he won't have. I feel more at odds being referred to in third person, as if I'm absent from the table, but I adjust watching him apologise and willing her accept it so all of this can blow over.

I lift my eyes to Elliot, sat opposite me at the square table. Both of our actions mimic each other – fiddling with the cutlery in front of us, lifting our glasses of water for a long sip simply as something to do, to get away from the private exchange in front of our eyes.

"Christian, you shouldn't be apologising to me; no one should. I have acted immature and disgustingly to both of you." Kate answers, her voice broken and her eyes flickering between both Christian and I.

"Ana, you came to me as a friend and I thought it my place to step in. I should never have involved myself. You were right when you said that there are only two people in your marriage, and I should have listened to you. I had no place in launching an attack on you, Christian. You didn't deserve it and I am really sorry for it."

"You're Ana's friend; you acted on your love for her. I can't blame for you that, because it's something I am responsible for as well." Christian reaches across the table, sliding his fingers over my hand and stroking my fingers. "If anything, we should be apologising to you."

"Christian –"

"No, Ana. We should." I flash my eyes to Kate, her hand resting on my other and grabbing my attention. "We didn't think of what it was doing to you, having us fight in front of you. But, I really want to apologise for the way I spoke to you the other night."

I nod my head, unable to reply to either of them.

"Christian, I have said some really horrible things about you. Things that are cruel and unnecessary, especially on thanksgiving and when Ana came to see me. I should never have spoken about you like that; I was blaming you for what happened to me, taking my anger over the situation out on you, when it really had nothing to do with you at all. I hope you'll forgive me for that."

"What?" Christian and I retort sharply, narrowing our eyes to her full of questioning.

I watch as Kate shifts in her seat, jolting her head to Elliot looking for help.

"Kate? What's happened?" My voice weak and concerned. I move my hand under hers to grip it, squeezing it tight.

"Well, I heard that Elena filed a police report on you, saying that you attacked her." Kate whispers, acknowledging the other diners around us even though no one would hear our conversation over the string quartet.

"We know, Detective Clark came to see us and said that he spoke to you about what happened on moving day - when I fell collapsed."

"No, Ana. I did speak to the detective, but I found out on thanksgiving. Before you guys came over."

"How?" I lean in a little closer to her, confusion flooding my mind.

_How did she find out before us?_

"Someone sold the story to the paper."


	47. Chapter 47

**Disclaimer: The characters portrayed in this story are those in E L James's Fifty Shades Trilogy, therefore they remain her property. The plot and themes in this story are those of the author. The author is in no way affiliated with James. No copyright infringement intended.**

**Many apologies for the lack of posting over the past couple of days! My computer has decided to have a complete and utter meltdown on me! **

**Anyhow, here is the next chapter! With all fingers crossed a few more will be posted over the next couple of days! **

**Much love and I hope you enjoy! :) x**

* * *

"W-what?"

I stumble out a concoction of alien sounds, struggling to make sense or form any sort of noise that even remotely resembles English. I have a complete barrage of questions ready to ambush her with, if my twisted and inadequate tongue can morph into that of a normal person's instead of lying numb in my mouth.

I attempt for the third or fourth time, thinking that I might be able to mumble something but I am silenced before I can even exhale my breath. I jerk my head to the right of me, feeling his fingers tighten their grip of my hand. I motion to protest, narrowing my eyes and searching for something in his face. Meeting his perfect greys, piercing into me, I get a stern warning not to say anything. With a slight nod of his head I pick up on his intentions and reasoning, as our annoying pest returns with one other following close behind him. Rolling my eyes to Christian I push back in my chair and remove both of my hands from the table, enabling the waiters to settle my dish in front of me without obstruction.

The pest is serving Elliot and Kate with their plates, throwing a hard and harsh glare over to Christian and I, clearly displeased with our defiance towards him moments before. Instead, his tall and leggy companion moves out of his shadow to wait on us. Her peroxide blonde hair is scraped tight against her skull, pulled into a bun at the nape of her neck. Some sort of sparkling hair slides glisten as she moves, though they are not enough to distract from the dark roots hinting at her natural hair colour. I watch as she flutters her eyelids and flaunts herself around Christian, but to no prevail. She seems genuinely put out at the fact that he isn't even acknowledging that she's there; his eyes fixed on my face and unmoving. I swear his wedding ring must attract yet more attention, and not do the intended – letting them know he's taken and warn them to back the fuck off! Still, she gently sets down his dish in front of him, dipping to align her probably fake chest to his eye level. I didn't receive the same level of care and attention as Christian, as she practically slammed my plate down in front of me. Yes, another Grey fanatic who hates his wife to add to the list. Is this list ever going to end? I can hear Christian's voice in my thoughts as he straightens up in his chair, lightly skimming my knee from under the table-cloth with his soft fingers. _It's just a face baby_.

We all remain in a forced silence until they stalk off, Christian 'gently' warning them to leave us be if they wanted to receive a generous tip. Somehow I think he would probably buy the whole damn place just to get some privacy. _My idea of takeout doesn't seem so bad now, doesn't it Grey?_

In harmony with one another we take to our meal, making a start on the first course. Each plate is angled and decorated with precision, the attention to detail intricate and eccentric. I can only imagine how tiring and difficult it would be to try to arrange a table to dine here, especially after Christian mentioned something about the chef being renowned and one of the best in the country. Having Grey as your last name means the opposite – they throw the tables at you, every restaurant desperate to get you through the door!

I find myself lifting my water to my mouth in between every other bite, subconsciously mimicking Elliot, sat opposite me. A small and discrete smirk creeps across my lips as I watch him turn his nose up at his plate, pushing the food around with his fork and wishing that he didn't decide to have faith in Christian's choice. Not everyone shares his acute and fine tastes, Elliot evidently one of them. I, however, savour and relish in the delight on the porcelain in front of me, everything delicious and teasing my palate. I trust his tastes, though I can only imagine that his choice of wine accompanies it perfectly. This is going to be a long five or so months.

How much longer are we going to wait this out? Is the suspense not killing him as it is me? Or does he know something I don't? _It wouldn't be the first time!_ I shake my head at my subconscious and her ever annoying sing-song voice. No, we've moved on from that. _No?_

"Kate?"

I split the silence first, the others jolting their heads from the low and fixed positions to face me.

"What… What hap-" I break off at the end, once again my tongue and mind crossing paths but not connecting along the way.

She looks down at her plate, taking a deep breath and lowering her fork. She shifts her weight in her chair, pushing her hands down to her lap and moving to face me more openly.

"Thursday morning. That's when my boss called me."

Grabbing her wine she brings it to her lips, taking a large gulp before setting it down again. Taking another deep breath I can see that she's trying to find a way to tells us, and I try my best not to rush her. Running her fingers through her hair she pulls it to hang over one shoulder, the open side of her face closer to me.

"I was getting ready to head over to Grace and Carrick's when my phone went. He called telling me that he had a story that needed investigating and writing up, telling me that it needed to be ready for print on Monday.

"I told him I was free to do it. I mean, once I've got the details, information and scoop, it takes no time at all to write-up something note-worthy. Hell, you saw in college when I had a 4PM deadline and I only started working on it at two! I can pull it off, without a doubt! So, I told him to give me some deets and that's when he told me."

"What information did he tell you?" Christian asks her, keeping his voice low and soft.

I catch him in the corner of my eye, his lips pressing hard against each other and running his index finger over his bottom lip. I want to reach over and pull it away, to replace it with my mouth but I know this certainly isn't the time or place.

"He said that someone had come forward that morning, informing him about an assault on a local business woman. He said it was Elena Lincoln and that she ran several beauty salons across the West coast. I didn't think anything of it, I knew who she was, how couldn't I? But I froze when he said that you were in the frame for it."

She adjusts her position, facing Christian head on. Lifting both arms she rests them on the table, lying parallel with her barely touched meal. I smile as I see Elliot reach across and stroke the top of her arm, offering her some support and comfort.

"He said that a witness had seen you leaving the scene, and that Elena was badly beaten and unconscious when they arrived. I kept my mouth shut, waiting to see if he had been told anything… _else._"

"Had he?"

"No, he didn't say anything. I'm sure that if he knew anything he would've told me. He just said that she had connections to the Grey family, nothing more."

Both Christian and I relax at this, the idea of the press finding out anything to do with their 'relationship' down right revolting – like I want anyone knowing what happened between them!

I lift my water to my lips, to ease the dryness in my throat and finishing it in one long gulp. I hadn't realised I was that thirsty.

"Kate, is it too much to ask you what your boss told you? Regarding the article?" Christian asks her in a muted tone; his voice is like velvet as he politely tries to pull more information from her.

"Of course not!" Kate leans forward slightly, maintaining eye contact with Christian. "He didn't really tell me that much. I suppose it's meant to be my job to piece the jig-jaw together.

"He basically said all that I've told you. Elena was attacked, beaten up and taken to hospital, but her injuries were relatively minor. Someone apparently saw you leaving the area, but to my knowledge you weren't seen actually doing anything. Not that I believe you did this!"

Her blue eyes flash wide to him, like a rabbit caught in headlights. Christian nods his head gently, and attempts to smile to try to assure her but his façade is unconvincing. I can see straight through it. No one says anything, waiting with bated breath for Kate to continue. I flick a glance to Elliot, he's the only one resuming his meal but I hazard a guess that he's already heard this.

"He said that it was heading for print on Monday. Apparently he reserved the front page for it. I asked him why he chose me to do it. There are a thousand other interns who he prefers. I mean, seriously, it's like pulling teeth trying to get some decent work out of that guy! That's when he told me that he only chose me because of my connections to you."

"Surely he can't ask you to do that?!" I exclaim.

"Well he did." Her lips form a pout, pissed off at the blunt and cruel position that her boss has put her in.

"Hold on a minute, I have the _Seattle Times_ brought to my office every day. I never saw anything in there yesterday?" I mumble, talking out loud. There was definitely nothing in yesterday's paper about this. I would have seen it, wouldn't I?

"I refused to do it. I would never do that across my family. I guess maybe he didn't have enough time to get someone else to write it up? I warned him though."

"About what?"

"That he shouldn't mess with Christian Grey. That's if he wants to stay employed." Sniggering a little she pauses, composing herself before continuing. "He thought I was kidding. Apparently there's no way you could have that power or control over that sort of thing. I don't think he's done a lot of research on you!"

I break into a grin, looking over at Christian. A smirk lingers across his lips as he fleets his eyes to me. I think some people really do underestimate Christian!

"I can't believe Elena would do this."

"Ana, we don't know she was the one." Christian holds out for my hand, waiting for me to slide my fingers across his palm and into his hold.

"It has to be her."

"Actually -" Kate chimes in, "It's not Elena."

"What?"

"I don't know who it was that came forward selling the story. They're remaining anonymous as far as I'm aware. But he did say that they were male."

_A man?_

_Her sub?_

"Kate, I know you're not on the story and I'm putting you in a stupid position by asking this, but are you able to do some digging? Maybe find out what who has done this?" I press her. I know I shouldn't ask her this but I need to know.

"Ana –"

Dropping her eyes and slumping back in her chair I know where this is going. I lean forward and stretch my other hand over to hers, holding her hand in mine and gripping it tightly.

"I'm sorry. Ignore me. I shouldn't have asked." I smile, but her eyes are troubled and avoiding mine.

"Ana –"

"Kate, don't worry about it. Okay? It's fine." I interrupt her again, reassuring her once more.

"Ana, will you let me finish?" Kate giggles slightly, shaking her head and breaking into a wide smile.

"Sorry." I tug at my lip between my teeth and smile weakly at her.

"Ana, you know I would do anything for you. But I can't do that. I can't find anything out for you."

"I understand. You'd be putting yourself in the firing line if you did."

"No. I can't do it because I was fired."

_What the hell?_

My mouth flies open as do my eyes. I can feel Christian bolt up straight in his seat, tension from the right of me building up and uncontrollable.

"You were fired?" I whisper.

"Yeah. When I told him that I wouldn't write it, he threatened me. He said that if didn't do it I'd be out on my ass, saying that I'm not a 'team player'."

"Kate..." I squeeze my fingers around hers and push back out of my chair, leaping over to her and throwing my arms around her shoulders. "I'm so sorry!"

"Shh, Ana. Don't be." Her hands move up to my back, rubbing in circles. "I'm not going to work for some asshole who wants me to screw over my family."

"Kate, I'll sort this."

I lift myself from her hold, moving to look at Christian. Before I can even ask how he can possibly sort this he is out of his chair, storming off to the exit with his BlackBerry pushed hard against his ear.

"Ana, he doesn't need to do that." Kate twists her eyebrows to me.

"I know, but he wants to. He's blaming himself." I mutter. Though I haven't exactly talked about this with him, I know that he is. Anything relating to that fucking bitch Christian takes the flack, blaming himself.

"It's not his fault that fucking bitch can't piss off!"

"I know." I settle back down into my chair, closing my eyes and exhaling a long breath. "Right, let's not let this food go to waste."

* * *

Finishing off our main course Christian still hasn't returned to the table. I sat through both meals staring over to the exit to see if he was coming back, growing a little excited to see someone enter only to be disappointed when it wasn't him. Kate and Elliot have kept conversation moving, though the air is still a little cold for my liking. I tried to apologise to her, for being such a bitch these past couple of days, but she shrugged it off. I hope that on Thursday we can discuss things a little more in-depth, having made an appointment to head down to Neiman's to pick out a dress for Grace's charity benefit on Friday. I had almost completely forgotten about it until Elliot reminded us. _Great, another shopping trip to be fitted into a tent!_

"Ana, why don't you text him or something? I'm sure he won't have ditched us." Elliot blurts out to me, pulling my eyes away from the doorway and back to the table.

"I haven't got my phone on me. I might go and see if he's around somewhere." I scoop up my napkin and drop it on the table, next to my cleared plate. At least I've finished my meal!

Kate and Elliot both smile to me, acknowledging my anxiety over Christian's mini disappearing act. I smooth my dress over my stomach which has swelled slightly over the course of dinner, feeling rock hard underneath my hand.

Leaving the dining room the maître d' makes a bee line for me, jumping to my side to help me. I pulled a Christian Grey, lifting my hand to him and smiling as I stalked past him. It bothers me how attentive they are, thinking whether they would treat me in the same way if I arrived here alone and under my unmarried name. _I really doubt it!_

"Mrs Grey!"

_Fuck!_ It didn't work.

I spin on my heel, turning to face the rather short, dark-haired man bouncing to my side. I force a smile on my face; being a bitch over this isn't going to get me anywhere.

"Yes?"

"Can I help you with anything?" He flashes his Hollywood smile to me, almost blinding me in the process.

"Er, have you since my husband at all?" I ask him, choosing my words carefully. It wouldn't sound good to say that my husband has fucked off somewhere and missed dinner.

"Oh yes, Mr Grey asked to use one of the private dining rooms to attend to some business. I can show you the way if you wish?"

"If you don't mind."

He beams at me, practically jumping on the spot and pounding out of the dining room. He walks with his head held high and back arched to add a little height to his small statue. He can't be no more than 5ft! I tower over him in my heels, deciding to walk a few paces behind him so as not to embarrass him.

He leads me straight across the lobby floor and through a set of double doors, into a corridor. On either side are several doors, the wood panelling of the walls mixing in with them and masking them well. He takes me straight to the end door on the right, waiting for me to reach his side before knocking twice and then opening the door.

"What the fuck did I tell you?!"

He freezes as he steps inside, as if he has hit a brick wall at 80mph! Christian's voice echoes throughout the room and hallway, bouncing off the walls and stabbing my ears. I quickly barge past the maître d' and come into his eye line.

As I enter I see Christian standing behind the long table, his jacket thrown on top and the first few buttons of his shirt undone. Throwing his Blackberry down on the table he makes to unleash another attack until he sees me. His face shifts from anger and stress to apologetic and sincere.

"I'm sorry." He mumbles, sauntering around the table to my side.

I don't know whether he's apologising to me or the maître d', but either way he accepts it. In turn he apologies and leaves us alone, quietly closing the door behind him.

"You missed dinner."

"I know baby. I am so sorry."

Christian takes me by the hand, pulling me over to one of the chairs. Falling down into it he pulls me into his lap, wrapping his hands around back and holding me close to his chest. I trace the hard-line of his jaw, his stubble pricking my finger tips as I swirl them over his skin.

"Did you eat?"

"Every last scrap. Can't you tell?" I giggle, bringing my other hand to my stomach and feeling the pressure beneath my skin. Christian's fingers push themselves underneath mine and rub my bump gently.

"So, have you managed to do anything? Or have you been held up in here for another reason?"

"A little." He pauses, closing his eyes and taking a moment. "I've spoken to PR, getting a full debrief on everything. They called before we came out but I wasn't really listening to them, and I hung up before they could tell me anything. They've put a hold on anything being published. If they decide to go to print now, they'll have one hell of a lawsuit on their ass!"

"What about Kate? She lost her job because of this."

"I know. I feel so bad over it. Not only have you been dragged into this, she's now fucking with the rest of my family. I want to fucking kill that bitch!"

"Please, don't go anywhere near her!" I plead with him, cupping his face between my hands and leaning into him. I hover in front him, feeling his breath warm against my lips.

"I won't. This is a legal matter. If she wants to play dirty then I can do just that. I will make sure that she has absolutely nothing to her fucking name by the time I'm finished with her."

Closing the distance between us Christian pulls my face to his, pushing my lips on to him and forcing his tongue into my mouth. Every time it's like the first, that time at the Heathman. _Fuck the paperwork._ It's like he's exploring unmarked territory.

I feel him groan into me; a groan deep from within his chest. He twists under me, moving me around on his lap.

"Am I too heavy for you?" I whisper, concerned that I might be hurting him.

"Ana, will you stop with his weight thing? You're carrying our child in there, and I don't care how much weight you gain. You are beautiful and I love every inch of you. The difference is now there is more of you to love."

"Then why are you shifting underneath me if I'm not squishing you?"

"Because I have a raging hard-on, and I want nothing more than to throw you on that fucking table and make you scream." His words are muted, velvet and causing my blood to writhe in my veins.

"Maybe you should just give in to your desires, Mr Grey?" I twist my fingers in his hair, pulling his head back a little and pushing my mouth on to his again. This time I'm taking control; taking complete control of his mouth.

"I think I've already ignored our guests enough this evening. It would be rude to leave them any longer, and we both know once isn't enough for you." Winking and smirking at me Christian lifts me out of his lap, setting me back on to my feet and rising to his feet behind me.

"I suppose we have to stop practicing at some point."

"What?"

He pulls me to face him, grabbing both of my arms and trailing his hands over my skin and reaching my wrists, where he thumbs over my pulse.

"You know, having to abstain." A frown burrows across his face and questions me. "Come on, you've not got to that part of the baby book yet? No sex for a long time once Blip gets here."

"How long?" His eyes are wide and full of horror at my outburst. _Seriously, I know something he doesn't?_

"At least 6 weeks."

"Six. Weeks?" He over emphasises each word, testing them as if he has never heard of them before.

I simply nod my head at him, giggling at his reaction. _How did he not know this?_

"Well, if that's the case I better make the most of you now."

In a swift movement he scoops me off my feet, both of his hands holding me by my behind and lowering me on to the table. He sets me down so my legs hang over the edge; moving to stand between them he starts to unzip his pants.

"You're serious?"

"Hundred percent baby."

Pulling down his slacks slightly and springing to life he trails his fingers up my thighs, tugging my dress up to my waist and revealing my panties. He skims the lace with his fingers and teasing me.

"I hope you're not too attached to these?" He moans, pushing his fingers on the inside and in one swift flick of his fingers they disintegrate, falling apart around me.

"I'm going to have no panties left at this rate!" I giggle as he leans down over me, taking possession of my mouth again.

I lose myself in him, giving in to him and my climax bubbling deep inside me.


	48. Chapter 48

**Disclaimer: The characters portrayed in this story are those in E L James's Fifty Shades Trilogy, therefore they remain her property. The plot and themes in this story are those of the author. The author is in no way affiliated with James. No copyright infringement intended.**

**Two chapters for you lovely people! The second one follows this one, so click next! :)**

**Much love and Enjoy! Look forward to hearing from you! :) x**

* * *

I bite down hard on my lip, holding back a moan as he slips out of me. The motion shoots after-shock spasms through me as I come down from my heavenly climax.

Slipping out from between my thighs I prop myself up on my elbows to watch him. He moves with quick precision, tucking himself back into his boxers, sliding his slacks up to his hips and pulling up his zipper. Fastening the few undone buttons of his shirt he throws a glance to me, a smirk raising on his lips as he catches me staring at him.

"Enjoying the view?"

"What can I say? It's a phenomenal sight." I giggle, licking my lips as I take him in. Everything about him is stunning and mouth-watering. _How is all of that mine?_

"I can empathise!"

I follow his eye line, tracing his raised brows and smirking greys down to my crotch, my naked apex in all its post-orgasmic glory with my dress pooled around my waist. I scramble to shove it down, having to jump from the table to cover myself completely. I blush crimson; _what if someone was to walk in? Oh God_!

"Hey -" Christian slides his hands around my back, moving to cup my behind with one hand while his other fists to the back of my neck. "Ana, do you really think I'd allow anyone to watch us?"

"Someone still could have seen… _everything_!" I protest. The horror and embarrassment sits in the forefront of my mind.

"Trust me. I would never allow that to happen." He soothes me, bringing his soft and gentle lips to meet mine. "I told them under no uncertain terms to leave me alone. No one is allowed to come in."

"Well that didn't exactly work did it? They let me in, no questions asked!" I huff, raising my eyebrow to him.

"You're the exception to the rule. The only exception to the rule."

Forcing my face to his I think he's going to take me again, push his lips to mine and tease my tongue with his, but he lingers, an inch away from contact, rubbing his nose against mine and inhaling deeply.

"Once really isn't enough." He growls, his eyes fleeting between mine and my lips. "We better leave before I throw you down for round two."

Pushing me back slightly he creates a considerable distance between us, sliding out of arms reach and turning his back on me. Christian glides across the floor, grabbing his jacket and phone from the other end of the table.

Looking down my torso and checking my dress is hanging properly, covering everything, I notice the corrupt mess of lace heaped on the floor. I blush further, scooping down to pick them up. I hold them in my hands, inspecting the damage and seeing the tear straight through the crotch.

"Do you really have to ruin every pair of panties I own?" I rise, staring at him standing by the door, waiting for me to join him.

"I like you with no panties." He replies coolly, shrugging his shoulders without removing his gaze from his buzzing phone in his palm.

"Well, I hope you're prepared to buy replacements for every pair you destroy?"

"I'll gladly take up any old excuse to buy you underwear baby." Glancing up from his BlackBerry momentarily, he curls his lips up to me, smirking with boyish delight.

"What I am supposed to do with these?" I hold up the lace, signalling that I can't exactly leave the room with my panties in my hand, having left my purse back with Kate and Elliot.

"I'll take them." He strides to me, taking them out of my hand and examining them before shoving them into his pants pocket. "Another one for the collection."

_What?!_

I freeze, my eyes bolting open wide and jaw falling apart.

"Ana! Shhh…" Cupping my chin he strokes my cheek with the back of his fingers, "I'm joking. Baby, I'm joking."

"So you don't… any of…" I trail off mumbling my words through a dry throat; my tongue sticking to the roof of my mouth.

"No. I'm fucked up but not a freak. I'll dispose of them as I have every other pair that I've ruined."

I relax, dropping my shoulders with relief as I look into his eyes. _Thank God_; thoughts of a box full of wallets with the fifteens underwear horrifying me and bringing bile to my mouth. Nodding my head I breathe in harshly, regaining myself and taking his free hand in mine. Strumming his thumb over it he leads me to door, opening it for me and escorting me out to the lobby.

Entering back into dining room the staff leaves us be, smiling at us weakly and allowing us to return to our table in peace. I hazard a guess that the scared maître d' informed them all about Christian's outburst. Strolling across the floor I'm suddenly aware of how exposed I feel, a breeze hitting my sex and startling me. I press my thighs together as I walk; walking as if I'm dying for the bathroom.

Reaching our table Kate and Elliot pull apart; they were deep in conversation, leaning into one another and Elliot whispering something presumably sordid into her ear. A grin splashes across her face as they separate.

"I'm sorry for my absence." Christian expresses his sincere apology to them, helping to settle me into my chair. He kisses the top of my head before moving back to his chair and resuming his previous position before he leapt from the table.

"No worries bro, you missed some interesting grub!" Elliot grumbles to him, a sarcastic undertone in his voice.

"Don't worry; I'll never invite you to a French restaurant again."

"Good! I hate all this pompous shit. I don't know how you and Mia can rave on about it."

"Some of us clearly have more eclectic palates. Whereas others are accustomed to fast food and reformed shit from supermarkets." Christian retorts, laughing at his brother.

A silence falls around the table as we try to hide our laughter from his quick wit, even Elliot struggling to hold back a roar.

"So, can I tempt you all for dessert or are you finished for this evening?"

The moment is broken from the pest, hovering near Christian's shoulder with a selection of menus in his arms. He stares down at Christian through his dark chocolate eyes, full of weariness and caution, proof that they all heard what happened.

"I'm in!" Elliot shrugs, looking over to Kate and gesturing for her to agree.

"Sure."

"Ana?" Christian turns to me, waiting for a response. I pause for a second, my stomach still rock hard from dinner and painful to touch.

"Ah go on, you look like you could do with something cold. You know Ana, you're looking a little flushed!"

I jolt my head to Elliot opposite me, his grin beaming across his face and raising his eyebrows to me with that knowing glare. Kate swats him on the arm, pressing her lips together to stop herself from giggling.

"What?!" He grabs his arm, rubbing it vigorously. "She's probably worked up an appetite!"

"Fuck off Elliot!" Christian snaps at him, his tone anything but joking.

"Come on bro, you don't think it's a bit funny?"

"No. Now stop it."

Elliot stares hard at Christian, silently resisting him until shifting to look at me and mouthing an apology. I smile to him, accepting it and reach over to stroke Christian hand fisted on his lap. He flexes it under my hand but relaxes quickly.

"Dessert?"

* * *

Allowing the water to bead down my body I stand still, absorbing the warmth and relish at my muscles soothing from the heat. I strum my fingers over my arms, rubbing off the body wash I splashed around moments before. The soft smell tickling my nose as it swirls around, the lather dripping down my arms and falling to the tiles beneath my tired feet.

My hair is stuck fast to my back after washing it. It's hard to believe how long it has grown over the past several months, thinking to how it was only what, June since I last had it cut? I really need to find a new stylist!

Finishing up and reluctantly switching off the water I shake off a little excess, reaching around the side of the shower wall for my robe. After showering I prefer to sink into my fluffy white robe, similar to the ones hotels gift you with. I feel comfortable with the soft material stroking my skin and warming me. I shuffle from the shower, grabbing one of the towels laid out to wrap my hair in. I flick it up, letting it trail down my back and hold my dripping hair securely.

Looking into the mirror opposite me I move to brush my teeth, my body ready for bed. _What's happening to me?_ It's only 11:49PM and I'm shattered! Please say it's just because it's been a long day!

"Yet another thing you're probably doing to me!" I roll my eyes, thinking of Blip – thinking of Teddy. I know Christian is right, it's better to not get too attached to the idea of having a boy but I'm positive. I'll eat my shoe collection if I'm wrong!

Deeming my teeth to be squeaky clean and pat drying my hair enough to sleep with comfortably. I sashay out of the bathroom, turning the light out as I leave. Entering into the bedroom I stare over to Christian, lying on his side with the bed sheets draped around him. I stand there for a moment examining him then realising that he's already asleep, his chest rising and falling silently with each deep breath. He's always so silent in sleep. Well, unless he's having a nightmare or mumbling to himself – usually after a hard day. I leave him be, moving into the closet to change. My sleeping beauty lost in his own little world.

I fish out one of my new nightgowns, a floor length white cotton gown. It was pretty much the only maternity item I picked up other than jeans and underwear. The straps detach and are suitable for nursing. I know it's a little early to be wearing it but it's loose around my stomach, ready to take me through my whole pregnancy, but it fits perfectly in the chest. I hope my breasts don't grow any more, they're massive and sensitive as it is.

Throwing my robe into the basket by the door I creep back into the bedroom, silently trying to slide into bed beside him without waking him up. He murmurs, stirring a little as I pull the sheets around me. I roll on to my side facing him, watching him as he sleeps. _So beautiful_. I resist the urge to kiss his face all over, instead leaning forward a little to kiss the tip of his nose gently. Pleased that he hasn't stirred any more or woken up I snuggle into my pillow, letting my eyes close and drift into a peaceful and much needed sleep.

"Goodnight baby."

* * *

"Mrs Grey, I'll drop you out front if you don't mind?"

I look up at Sawyer in the rear view mirror. His doe eyes shy and pleading, taking some of the blame.

"Of course, Sawyer, it isn't your fault I'm late!" I assure him, smiling sweetly.

He nods his head and moves to pull the car out the front of Grey Publishing; the large brick building housing my name in giant letters over the doorway, signalling the start of another day of work. I wish I was just lying to Sawyer but the truth is it was my fault why we were late! Before falling asleep last night I forget to switch on the alarm, resulting in a frantic Christian throwing himself out of bed and shouting at me to wake up. Rolling over I saw the time, 8:38AM, and joined him in the rush to get ready. I couldn't believe how late we were, and how difficult it is to dress in a hurry – every item of clothing working against you. He mumbled some things under his breath as he dressed, no doubt cursing me or himself, either way I stood back and allowed him to get it out of his system. He hates being late.

I'm now pulling up outside work at 9:42AM, almost forty-five minutes late for work. I made a hasty call to Hannah letting her know the situation and asking her to hold the fort until I arrived. I know I'm in charge but still, it's shitty being the one turning up late and everyone staring at you as you creep past them, trying to go undetected.

Calling my thanks to Sawyer I shuffle from the car out on to the street, clutching my purse close to my body as I mingle in with everyone else. It flicks through my mind that Christian would have a complete meltdown if he knew I was out here on my own, even though it's practically a thirty second walk from the sidewalk to the lobby entrance. I turn to look at the car, Sawyer staring at me with the window pulled down and watching over me as I make my way through the rush of people.

Moving my way through them is a challenge, an ocean of people around me all in a rush to get somewhere. Guess it must be late Wednesday or something? I pass them calling out my 'excuse me' and 'thank you's' as I push past them. I apologised to some woman I startled as I moved around her, her squeal making me jump. I continued past her, determined to get into work as soon as, but she called out a 'no problem' with sincerity. _Note to self, always check the alarm!_

I glance down at my watch, clocking the minutes adding up as I scuttle through the reception, heading straight through to the staff elevator. I smile at Claire on the reception desk, signing for a package, as the doors close around me. I can't believe I'm late! The most I've ever been late was fifteen minutes!

As predicted everyone stared at me as I made my way through the office floor over to my security blanket. Being able to shut them away and throw myself into work is a relief. Hannah joins me for a little while, running through my schedule and going over her notes on some manuscripts I gave her on Monday. Turning my attention to my computer I fire up an email to Christian, a little put out to see that I haven't received one from him. Neither have I received a text.

* * *

**From: Anastasia Grey**

**Subject: I'm Sorry!**

**Date: 30****th**** November 2011 10:01:35AM**

**To: Christian Grey**

To my loving and kind husband,

I am so sorry for not setting the alarm last night. I have no idea why I forgot to check it before falling asleep. I hope you weren't too late?

I hope you have a wonderful day.

I love you.

Ana

Xxx

Anastasia Grey

Apologetic Editor, Grey Publishing Ltd.

* * *

I'm grateful to hear the ping of my emails minutes later; my Fifty responding quickly and not keeping me waiting.

* * *

**From: Christian Grey**

**Subject: Unnecessary**

**Date: 30****th**** November 2011 10:04:59AM**

**To: Anastasia Grey**

To the attention of my beautiful and sorry wife,

I should have checked it myself. Don't blame yourself baby. I guess I just crashed last night. I never even heard or felt you come to bed.

I was a little late, only marginally but enough. If they can't cope without me for ten minutes then I hired the wrong the people. You shouldn't worry about being late. Your boss's boss's boss accepts your excuse. In fact, he is insisting that you take half the day off.

I love you.

C

X

Christian Grey

Your boss's boss's boss & CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

* * *

**From: Anastasia Grey**

**Subject: Note to my boss's boss's boss**

**Date: 30****th**** November 2011 10:09:43AM**

**To: Christian Grey**

Please can you tell my boss's boss's boss that, as much as I appreciate his offer, I cannot possibly take a half day after arriving forty-five minutes late.

P.S. I still should have checked it myself.

I love you more.

Ana

Xxx

Anastasia Grey

Still Apologetic Editor, Grey Publishing Ltd.

* * *

**From: Christian Grey**

**Subject: Insistent**

**Date: 30****th**** November 2011 10:12:30AM**

**To: Anastasia Grey**

He is very insistent.

I'll see you at one.

I know you love me, but it is nowhere near the capacity of love that I hold for you.

C

X

Christian Grey

Full of love CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

* * *

I scowl at my computer screen, rolling my eyes at him and his defiance. Pushing back out of my chair I reach my door, calling out to Hannah.

"Hannah, can you cancel my schedule from one o'clock?" I ask her, holding on to the door frame and diverting my attention from the eyes turning to face me.

"It's already done. Mr Grey called earlier to let me know." Hannah smiles over to me, rising from her desk.

"When exactly did he call you?"

"Erm, about an hour ago?" She mumbles, trying to think back. "Yeah, it wasn't that long after I arrived. Is there a problem?"

"No. Not all." I smile, retreating back into my office and closing the door behind me. _No, no problem with you!_


	49. Chapter 49

**Disclaimer: The characters portrayed in this story are those in E L James's Fifty Shades Trilogy, therefore they remain her property. The plot and themes in this story are those of the author. The author is in no way affiliated with James. No copyright infringement intended**

**Second Chapter of the day for you!**

**Much Love! :) x**

* * *

I've ignored Christian's last message all morning, working through the rest of the manuscript I received a week or so ago and haven't looked at since. I have a meeting scheduled next week to go over it with the author and slowly the realisation of how unprepared I am has hit me. I was going to run through it today, seeing as tomorrow I have to go shopping with Kate for an outfit of the charity benefit on Friday, Friday is out of question anyway and I have no idea what kind of crap will happen on the weekend. _Thank you Mr Grey, for putting yet another chink in my plans._

Looking up from my desk and seeing that it's almost time to leave, I slowly pack up my belongings, making a quick call down to Sawyer to let him know and finding out that he is also aware of Christian's plan of getting me out of work early.

I left Hannah with some letters that need filing and apologised for leaving the office yet again. I swear I spend more time out of work than I have actually contributing to the money making its way into my account. Marriage, pregnancy and annoying psycho bitches always getting in the way and changing plans at the last minute.

Sawyer is already waiting for me from the sidewalk, the SUV idling ready for me to slip into the back. I make a stride for the doors when Claire leaps in front of me, stopping me in my tracks.

"Ana! Glad I caught you; I have a memo for you." Claire jumps to life, her large hooped earrings dangling and swaying slightly from her ears.

"Oh, okay."

"Yeah, it was a… Mrs Anderson? Ring any bells?"

"Vaguely… Was she one of the applicants I interviewed?" I narrow my eyes and pull my hair from my face to sit behind my ear.

"Erm –" She looks away, scuttling over to her desk to check. I follow behind her, holding up my hand to Sawyer to let him know I'll be a minute. "Yeah, she was your 1:30. I don't think she showed up though. I remember Hannah calling to check."

"Oh yeah, no she came but left before I met with her." _Of course, the mystery candidate before Maggie_. "Why did she call?"

"She just said to pass on her apologies again, saying that she had to leave ASAP. She asked if the position was still open and was pretty down when I said it wasn't. I said that we'd keep her on file just in case. Is that okay?"

"Yeah, there's no harm in having her file. But she's the one who left. You snooze you lose!" I shrug, pushing back from the desk. "Anything else?"

"Nope, have a nice afternoon."

"I'll try." I roll my eyes, heading out the building and grateful to see the rush on the sidewalk has died down in comparison to this morning's drama.

Sliding in and closing the door Sawyer greets me, looking up at me with wary as I throw my purse across the car.

"Everything okay ma'am?"

"Fine. Where are we going?" I ask him, calming my voice slightly. It's not his fault my husband has a habit of changing my day for me.

"Grey House ma'am."

_He better have lunch sorted_.

* * *

I play around with my phone as we drive through uptown Seattle, checking and deleting old messages and clearing my phone call logs, all just something to do until we arrive outside Grey House.

Thankfully Sawyer drives quickly and gets us there promptly, the journey a tedious wait to meet with him. As always I'm bombarded as I enter, the receptionists offering their assistance and some suits passing on their best wishes and holding the elevator open for me.

I check myself in the keypad as I ride up to the top floor, checking out of mascara and untidy hair. I look tired from waking with a start, despite having a lie in. I threw on the first thing I came to in my closet, not caring what it was or how I would look in it. The knee length navy skirt floats out at the bottom, covering the tops of my knee high boots. I paired it with a white blouse, grateful that it was one of the pregnancy ones and not a pre-baby item. I know for sure that I wouldn't be able to squeeze into that now!

As the elevator jolts to the top floor I pull my purse closer to me, looking down over my stomach as I step forward. Moving out of the open doors I slam into a wall, a wall towering over me and a wash of white and grey.

"Finally."

Lifting my eyes I see Christian in front of me, holding his arms out to stop me from barging into him completely, one hand positioned just in front of Blip to protect him from the impact.

"I've been waiting an eternity for you!"

"Huh? I'm only a few minutes late." I mumble to him, struggling to keep up with him as he pounds across the reception area outside his office.

Olivia or Andrea, I can never figure which, smiles to me as I shuffle past them.

"Any length of time away from you is agony." Christian mutters when I reach him, pulling me into his chest and walking me into his office.

"I was held up as I was leaving."

"Problem?"

"No. Just a memo." I smile to him, bringing my hands to the back of his neck and pulling him down to me.

"Okay. Thank you for coming."

"I didn't really have a choice. Seems you already made my plans for me." I raise my eyebrow to him, moving my lips away from his reach when he leans forward to take me.

"Are you angry?"

"A little. I've talked to you about that."

"I know, I'm sorry baby. Please don't be angry with me, I swear I only did it because I missed you."

I relax, falling into him as I surrender. I suppose I can let him off this once; I did miss his kisses before he left for work this morning.

"Am I forgiven?" He whispers into my hair as I nuzzle his shirt.

"I guess so."

"Good, because we have plans."

Taking my hands and peeling me off him he walks over to his desk, shutting down his computer and picking up his briefcase, jacket and phone.

"We're not having lunch?"

"Of course we are, but not here." He rises from his chair, throwing his jacket over his shoulder and meeting my side once more.

"We're going out of lunch?" I whisper, my stomach growling a little. I daren't tell him I skipped a real breakfast, settling for a few Graham crackers as I ran from the house.

"Yes. Lunch, then we have some shopping to do."

"_Shopping_?" I repeat his word. "We're going shopping?"

"Yes."

"For anything specific?"

Smiling he turns me around, twisting my body to face the wall opposite me – a plain white wall stretching the length of the room.

"For artwork." He stoops down, wrapping his free arm around my stomach, whispering into my ear and kissing it lightly.

"What happened?!" I exclaim, staring at the blank space that used to house the many different canvases and beautiful black and white pictures.

"I needed a change."

Before I have time to press him some more he continues, rubbing my stomach through my shirt and breathing on to my neck. "Because I was fed up with it. The work that was there before was insignificant, impersonal and, more importantly, from people I would prefer to not be reminded of when I glance up at it."

"You mean from one person in particular?" I hiss, just even hinting to her makes my blood boil.

"Yes, now come on. You need food because you've not had a proper breakfast, and we need to get to the gallery before five." Christian skims his hand from my stomach and grabs my hand, pulling me towards the door.

"Why are we going to pick it out? Why don't you have someone else do that? Like Gia?"

"Because I want to be reminded of you when I look up. I want to see art that you've picked out, whether it's because it reminded you of something or just because you though it looked nice. Whatever the reason I will smile knowing that I have a piece of you here with me."

Holding back a grin I feel a flutter inside me. _Yes, Daddy can be very sweet sometimes._

"Now we really have to go. You know I hate it when you skip meals."

"How did you know about breakfast?"

"Because I have eyes and ears everywhere." He smirks, opening the door for me and walking me out.

"Mrs Jones or Sawyer?"

"Neither."

I jerk my head to the side. _How the…_

"When you're stomach is growling that loudly, it's hard to ignore it!"

* * *

Feeling sated and full from lunch at a small diner not far from his office I slouch back into the passenger seat of the car, smiling to myself to see that yet again Mr Mercurial has chosen to drive my R8.

The gallery is just outside town; a small multi-storey brick building in a quiet area. I follow Christian around as he takes me through the first floor in search of someone.

"Watkins." He calls over to a shadow lurching in a store cupboard.

"Ah, Mr Grey."

Watkins stalks over to us, his long brown hair swaying a little as he greets us. He stretches his hand out to both of us, his handshake strong and meaningful.

"I'm so glad you called."

"You came highly recommended." Christian retorts to him, his voice cold.

"Well thank you. Now, is there anything in particular you're looking for?" His soft Canadian accent flooding and echoing throughout the plain room. Everything is blank in this part of the gallery; the walls are starch and dull, while the wooden floors provide the only colour.

"No. Just anything that takes Mrs Grey's fancy."

"Any artists you have in mind?"

"No. Are we able to take a look around for ourselves?" I can sense that Christian is growing impatient with Watkins.

"Of course, I'll be lurking around here somewhere if you need any assistance." He smiles to us both before leaving, heading back over to the place from which he came.

"You didn't have to be so blunt with him." I whisper sharply to Christian, swiping him with my arm as I slide past him.

"What? I hate being pestered. We're better off looking around ourselves."

"Fine! Now where is everything?" I gesture around the open room. "I don't see anything."

"Baby," Christian runs his index over his bottom lip, forcing back a smirk I know is lingering there. "They're upstairs."

I slide past him avoiding his eyes, knowing that both of us might burst into laughter as we meet. I wait for him by the staircase, waiting to take his arm to lead me up there.

We walk around the second floor admiring the various pieces and take note of the ones I like. Christian has given me free reign over the whole thing, keeping his opinions and choices out of it. I originally thought about sticking to the black and white theme that I've come to be accustomed with; the one that Christian has always preferred for his work environment. It wasn't until I came across a series of dark blues and green pieces that I changed my mind. I was drawn the abstract mix of beautiful colours. Each piece flows with one another, no particular theme or idea clear, enabling them to be placed in any order and they would still look stunning.

"Do you like them?" Christian mumbles to me, standing at my side and staring at the pieces.

"Yes. Do you?"

"I like whatever you do." I twist my head to him, watching his lips rise into a smile. "Are they the ones?"

"I think so. I really like them."

"Any reason why?"

"One." I mumble, sliding my arms around his waist and snuggling into him.

"Care to divulge?"

"They remind me of the masquerade benefit. They made me think of the mask you gave me, and the feathers." I whisper to him, recalling the peacock coloured feathers on the side of my mask.

"Oh yes. That was an interesting night."

"Yeah, it was. Dinner, auctioning, dancing, making our first visit to your childhood bedroom and, how could I forget those amazing silver balls?" I giggle against him.

_Yes, that was a good night for the most part_. The confrontation with bitch troll, and the incident with Leila breaking in, forcing us to spend the night at The Fairmont, tainting the evening somewhat.

"I certainly enjoyed those silver balls."

"So did I."

"So, these are the ones you want?" Christian wraps my ponytail around his wrist and tugs my head back slightly, bringing my eyes to his.

"Yeah. I want those ones." I glance over to the six large paintings hanging beside us.

"Watkins." He calls over behind me, turning me as I hear footsteps moving hastily over to us.

"Yes, Mr Grey?"

"We'll take this."

"Excellent. All of the blue/green ones?" He waves to the pieces spreading the length of the wall.

"Yes."

"Perfect. I'll just go and check these over for you. Would you care to follow me down to my office?" Watkins asks us, gliding past to head to the wooden door at the far end of the room.

We follow him, walking a few paces behind and step into the small office matching the plain theme of the gallery. The white walls reflect what light there is seeping in from the small window opposite, and the pine wood desk homes a computer and phone – nothing else.

We sit down on the two chairs at the other end of the desk, Christian throwing a distasteful glare at his surroundings, everything clearly not up to his standards.

"Now, Mr Grey, if you would care to sign here?" Watkins slides over some receipts for Christian to sign. He does without even looking at it closely, sliding it back across the table towards him.

"How much is the total?" I speak out, interested at how much he'll be paying for the pieces.

"$13,983.64."

"Whoa!" I force my hand to my mouth. _Fourteen thousand dollars?_

"Yes, Mrs Grey. Is there a problem?"

"No. No problem." _Just the fact that I think I've just had a coronary at the thought of paying fourteen thousand dollars for 6 pieces of art!_

Christian clamps hold of my hand as he pushes his credit card over to Watkins. He beams with delight looking at the platinum card sliding his way. _Yeah, imagine what you'd do if you knew how much money was in there!_

"That's a lot of money of six paintings!" I question Christian, keeping my voice low and avoiding the ears of Watkins, eagerly typing in the card details to his computer.

"Ana, stop over-thinking it." He purrs back to me, squeezing my hand.

"Are they even worth that much?"

"I don't know. But you like them, that's enough." Christian shrugs it off.

Unconvinced I lean forward in my chair, grabbing Watkins attention. "Can I ask who the artist is? I was just curious if they're anyone I've heard of."

"Actually Mrs Grey, this is an anonymous gallery. All of the pieces we hold are by artists who wish to keep their identity secret. Our independent expert examines the quality of the pieces and prices them based on style and how the artist's work has fared in the past."

"So there's nothing you can tell us about them?"

"Afraid not. What I can say is they are new, we've only had a few pieces from them over the last couple of months but they have sold quickly. There's a lot of interest in them."

I nod my head, realising that this is a dead end and forced to accept that they must be worth it.

Finishing up the paperwork, telling him where they should be delivered and when we want them to arrive we shake hands with him again, leaving the gallery with a small, minute dent in our bank balance.

"Where to next?" I ask Christian, waiting for him to slide in next to me and bring the car to life.

"Home. Unless there's anywhere else you'd like to go?"

"No, home's great." I smile, fastening my seatbelt. I can't imagine anywhere else I'd rather be right now. Bath, dinner and bed – perfect plan!

I reach over to switch on the radio but in seconds of the song starting it cuts out, the speaker phone of Christian's BlackBerry ringing loudly. He rolls his eyes reaching across to answer the call and snapping to the caller.

"Grey."

"Sir, it's Welch." His voice equally as hard as Christians.

"Yes?"

"I have a development on the 22nd sir."

"And?" Christian hisses, steering down to the interstate.

"I managed to pull the card used sir."

"What number was it?"

"5512-DKW, sir."

"I knew it!"

Christian slams his hand down on to the steering wheel. I jump hearing the loud bang, twisting in my chair to look at him. His hand is in his hair, pushing it back out of his face in that way that shows how pissed off and stressed he is.

"Is there anything I can do?"

"I'll call you later." He leans over and hangs up; the music springs to life once more – Coldplay's 'The Scientist' filling the silence.

"Christian?" I stretch out and place my hand on his thigh, trying to figure out what sort of mood he's in, and relaxing a little when he doesn't shove my hand away.

"Yeah?"

"What was that all about?" I ask him, whispering.

"I've had Welch working on how that fucking bitch managed to get into your office. I had him look at the security tapes when you said that someone saw her use the staff elevator, he's only just managed to pull the key card that she used."

He lowers his hand to mine, lifting it from his thigh to slips his fingers in between mine.

"You knew who it was?"

"I had a rough idea; something hasn't sat right with me for weeks now."

"And? You know which one she used?" I press him.

"Yes." Squeezing my fingers he pauses, getting on to the interstate and manoeuvring around the cars in front.

"Are you going to tell me?" I huff, growing impatient.

"It was that fucking rat Wilkes." Christian snaps.

"Wilkes? As in Danielle?"

"Hole in fucking one!"


	50. Chapter 50

**Disclaimer: The characters portrayed in this story are those in E L James's Fifty Shades Trilogy, therefore they remain her property. The plot and themes in this story are those of the author. The author is in no way affiliated with James. No copyright infringement intended.**

**Big mahoosive apologies for the lack of updates! I've had to have my computer sent off for repairs, which *fingers crossed* is sorted now! :) **

**I have the next couple of chapters planned out, so depending on how long they take to word and shuffle about I should have more for you guys soon! If not tonight, then definitly tomorrow! I'm gonna make up the lack of replies to you lovely people!**

**Much love and looking forward to hearing from you, as ever! :) I hope you enjoy! x**

* * *

I have a reoccurring stabbing pain slashing through my ribs. It feels like I've been punched square on in the chest, a pain I have felt quite a few times and every time is because of hearing something that, yet again, threatens to cause more shit for us. _For me_.

Over the past several weeks I've started questioning whether there will ever be a time when there is nothing hovering around us; a time when that fucking bitch will no longer be a threat. Or is this what I've got to adjust to? Is this all part of the package that I have to deal with?

I can't hear anything.

Chris Martin drones something about Jerusalem bells over the stereo, but I don't hear it. It's all a blur of noise warbling through the car. All I can hear is the sound of my own breathing and my heart pounding against my chest, but in a slow and panicked rhythm and not its typical racing, frantic mess. The voice in my head is noticeably absent, no doubt hanging from the roof screaming out for a break while pounding on her chest like King Kong.

I'm in a black hole; a whirling cataclysm with seemingly no way out. Christian is silent beside me, the only movements he makes are with the steering wheel, switching lanes and finding the quickest route along the interstate.

My window is pulled down ajar so the light breeze from the car throttling forward filters through and flicks strands of hair across my face. My cheeks feel cold but I like the feeling; I like the light stinging sensation hitting my usually flushed skin. The small whooshing noise from gaining speed is loud to my ears, though usually insignificant and unnoticed.

I stare absentmindedly as we pass the various road signs and other drivers, watching as some of them flip us off for overtaking them, while others stare open-mouthed. I can't judge their expressions completely due to the lightning speed he's forcing the car to. My car stands out: a shiny, new, brilliant white Audi R8. It's exactly what I asked for, and exactly what he wanted – he wanted me to stand out, to pass people and be noticed and easily picked out from the crowd. I'd much rather slip through the net and be a stranger in the night, or to at least have the opportunity to drive the car I've owned for a few months and have sat behind the wheel a handful of times.

_What the hell?_

Coming back to my senses I twist my body, tugging at my seatbelt and pulling it from me to give me more room to manoeuvre, so I can glare out of the back windscreen. I alter my vision between the back of the car and Christian, his face unchanged and hard.

"Christian."

I speak out, breaking the silence that was growing between us while Coldplay warbled and whined.

I wait to see if he'll say anything but he blanks me. It's as if I'm not here.

"Christian, you're going the wrong way!"

I snap at him, more aggressive than intended, as he swings past the car in front, gaining yet more distance. I press my eyes together for a second, waiting for the fall back that doesn't arrive. I expected him to snap but he's motionless, cold and statuesque.

I frantically wave my arms through the back of the car, pointing eagerly to the exit he completely bypassed. Examining his face shows me nothing – grey eyes fixed to the road, lowering briefly to check the dash, and a jaw twitching from gritting his teeth.

I stare as he ignores me, growing more agitated after every beat goes by.

"Christian!" I snap again, this time triggering a response.

Sitting up straighter in his chair he rolls his head towards me.

"What?!"

His tone is whiny like a petulant teenager being nagged at to tidy his room, eat his greens or do homework. I have a fleeting vision of our little boy standing at the top of the staircase screaming at me until he's blue in the face.

_I swear to God Blip, if you're like him I will scream!_

"You're going the wrong way." I repeat to him, slower than usual in hopes that he will hear me this time. Though, part of me knows that he heard me previously and chose to ignore it.

"No."

"_No?_ No what?"

Has he lost all means of communication? Is this all I'll get, just one word answers and grunts?

"No, I am not going the wrong way."

Pressing his lips hard against each other they turn white from the pressure, mimicking his knuckles that are translucent from gripping the wheel hard.

"Yes you are."

"With all due respect, how long have you lived in Seattle?"

For the first time I catch him acknowledging me properly, cocking his head to the side and examining my face. A hint of disgust lingers in his eyes, causing me to squirm and want to climb out through the window. I feel small and insignificant, ready to curl up in a ball from the callous and hurtful look in his face, but I stand my ground.

"How is that relevant?"

"You've lived here for what, six or seven months? I've lived here for the majority of my life, excluding the brief stints in Detroit and Massachusetts. My knowledge of the streets and sense of direction, in and around Seattle, is considerably superior to yours." Moving his eyes back the road he continues, hesitating for a millisecond. "Please, do not try to suggest I have no idea where we are going."

"I wasn't suggesting anything. I was just pointing out that you had missed the exit!"

Is this what it's always going to be like? Five minutes of nice Christian – the Christian that holds you and tells you he'd walk on water for you – to then switch to hard, cold and callous Mr Grey – the no-nonsense CEO who will have your head on a silver platter if you cross him, or catch him in a bad mood.

I seriously can't keep up with his violent mood-swings, and try to deal with my own at the same time!

"And I told you, I haven't. Do you really think I've lost all memory of where we live?"

"Home?" I question him. _We're going home?_

"Yes. You know that place I brought a while back. The place we moved into a few weeks ago?" His voice is irritating me, like fingernails screeching down a chalk board as he addresses me in a condescending manner. "A big house near water…"

"Stop it!"

I slam back into my chair, throwing my arms around my chest and tugging at my jacket. My knuckles match his, my skin turning white as I grip on to the material.

"Stop what?"

"Stop being such an ass!"

"I'm being an ass?"

"Yes, you're talking down to me like I'm a fucking child!" With every reply my voice is going up an octave, growing more and more frustrated.

"Stop questioning me then. You know I hate it."

Rolling my head against the back of my chair I scowl at him, my sight blurred partially from anger. "I wasn't. I was pointing out that you took the wrong exit, but evidently we're not heading that way."

"Where else would we be heading, besides home?"

"I thought you'd take me back to work."

"Why?" He exhales, pushing out his exasperation in one hefty breath.

"Have I entered the Bermuda triangle or something?" I fling my arms out, waving them towards his phone hooked up to the sound system. "You did just hear what Welch told you, right?"

"Of course I did. Questioning my hearing now as well?"

"Yes, there seems to be a problem with it seeing as you've ignored me for the most part of this journey."

"So now concentrating on the road and trying to get us home safely is ignoring you? Would you rather I sit here and contemplate the state of the US economy, driving without a care in the world and put both of you in danger?"

He lifts his hand from the wheel for a second, gesturing to my stomach without removing his eyes from the dash. Clocking the speed he's rocketed us to he slows, dropping by at least twenty.

"A little communication wouldn't go a miss."

"More to the point, why would you think we would head back to your office? You've finished for the day and it's almost closing."

"Well, because Welch has just presented some information that I need to act on. Seriously, what planet are you on right now?"

"Cut the fucking attitude. Now!"

I huff loudly, slamming into my chair again and lifting one leg to cross over the other. I wrap my arms around me, protecting me and creating a barrier. I count to ten before letting out another breath.

"Why aren't you taking me back to work? I need to deal with this and I need to be at my office to do that."

"You think you're going to deal with this?"

Jerking his head towards me I refuse to shift mine, instead looking at him through my peripheral vision. Like I really need to look at him to know what sort of death stare he's delivering to me!

"Are you going to deal with it like you did last time?"

"Huh?"

"I gave you the benefit of the doubt last time, allowing you to deal with this. I made it perfectly clear that I wanted that fucking bitch out, but you insisted on keeping her. Clearly Anastasia knew best! _'Let's give her a chance!_'"

I sit still as he tries to imitate me, flaying his arm around in a wavy, feminine motion. It's almost laughable if I didn't want to kick open my door and roll out onto the interstate while he's doing seventy!

"Well, look what happened. You kept her on and she still screwed us over, for the second fucking time!"

"Is it wrong to try and give someone a second chance, to have a little faith?"

"Face it, if they've fucked it up once, they will do it again. Why wait around twiddling your thumbs until someone screws you over again?"

"I gave you a second chance. Is that what I'm doing, waiting for you to fuck me over again?"

_Am I?_

"Ana –"

"Don't bother. Just take me back to work." I whisper to him, unable to excel any more energy into this.

"We are going home. I'm dealing with it this time."

"As you so frequently remind me, I'm in charge of Grey Publishing. I'm the one who's supposed to deal with these issues."

"My name is still on the papers. It's still in my name, and while it is I'm calling the shots."

"Keep it then! Keep your fucking company."

"It's still yours Ana, but while I'm in charge I will deal with any issues that arise. You've still got a lot to learn in the world of business."

"I don't want to learn any of it. I wanted to be an assistant, work for my title and not have it thrust on me. I hate the fact that everything I have is because of you. None of it is down to me!"

Silence separates us for a moment, neither of us willing to add anything, on my behalf for not wanting to argue anymore. I hate arguing with him, he always makes me feel about two feet tall. The music is the only noise that infiltrates the barrier.

We're engulfed for the rest of the ride home, ignoring each other and both of us standing hard. I thought I heard him mutter something just before he pulled into the drive, but I pushed it out – if he can't say it out loud then it sure as hell isn't worth it.

I jumped from the car no soon as he pulled up in front of the house, next to the SUV always parked up. I suspect Taylor tries to have it on hand just in case he needs to go somewhere, always on Christian's beck and call. He works his ass off for Christian but I can probably guess the amount of times he has been thanked for the work he does. I thank Sawyer every day for driving me to and from work; a little gratitude goes a long way.

Storming into the house I throw my purse down and kick off my heels, leaving the hallway when I heard the door open behind me. I wasn't planning on heading to the kitchen, instead my feet taking me there without my brain registering anything – my brain is still sat in the car, halfway down the interstate when it blew up, unable to cope with the latest Christian Grey drama. I had to get away from him, having to look him in the face and acknowledge him seems impossible right this second, though I'm glad I've ended up in the kitchen – I sure as hell wasn't going to end up in the bathroom like I normally do!

It smells phenomenal in here. Mrs Jones has evidently been cooking some meals for us, no doubt to store in the fridge for whenever we fancy, though the kitchen shows no signs of life. Everything is clean and sharp, untouched and like a showroom. Before I know it my face is in the refrigerator, downing some Orange juice straight from the bottle and greedily finishing it all. Disappointed that the thirst quenching liquid is gone I throw it to one side, slamming the fridge door shut as I feel him invading my space. I can feel him standing right behind me, the shadow trapping me and his breath warm against my neck. I turn slowly, maintaining what distance there is between us and meet him straight in the eye.

"Please make sure that you eat something, and don't stay up late. I'm going to deal with all this shit and I have no idea how long it's going to take." His eyes flicker from mine, breaking first and showing signs of being uncomfortable.

"I'll deal with it. I said I would." I press him again, forcing my hands to my hips and subconsciously pushing my stomach forward. I feel it gently press into his, one of the buttons of his shirt poking at my bulge. I shiver as he steps back slightly, resuming the distance.

"No. I've said I will deal with it. It's not something for you to concern yourself with anymore."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean? You're taking Grey Publishing off me? Or is it that you don't trust me? You don't think I can handle this?"

"Stop pushing me Ana. I don't want to argue with you on this."

Pushing his hair back and stepping away from me he mumbles under his breath. Turning around again and facing me I can see where this is going. On his face is the fight or flight response I'm accustomed to.

"I need to use the fucking gym!"

"Why?"

"Would you rather I take my anger over this out on the fucking furniture, or you for that matter?"

"I would rather you talk to me, but I'm pretty sure there are a thousand windows around here that you can put your fist through!"

"I give up!"

Throwing both of his hands up in the air, surrendering to me, he pounds up the staircase and disappears into our bedroom, slamming the door behind him. I slam my head into my hands and try to think. Words of advice from my Mom pop into my mind, but it's easier said than done. _Just give them some time, baby girl. If you argue, take a step back and breathe. Let them calm down and take a chill, before you know he'll be crawling at your feet_. I can't imagine him giving in on this. He doesn't trust me to handle this because I made the decision to give her another chance.

_You can handle this. He knows you can but he's too far up his own arse to allow you the chance. He has to have control._

I don't know whether the voice in my mind is my own, my subconscious or Kate. All three a likely possibility right this second.

I stand there for a little while, concentrating on what to do. Do I go up there and confront him - scream and shout until he realises that I'm an adult? Do I go up there and apologise – curl around his chest and kiss it better?

Making my decision I'm halted, hearing Christian storming down the stairs. For someone so graceful and light on his toes, when he's pissed off he can pound around like an elephant! I move over to the staircase, meeting the bottom just as he's landing on the wooden floors beneath me. He's changed into his workout sweats and a vest; his dress shoes exchanged for sneakers.

He ignores me as he swings around my figure, moving past and jogging off down the hall towards our home gym. I've yet to step inside the gym since moving in, clearly showing my level of interest in the idea of working out. I prefer to work out with him – working up a sweat between the sheets, or wherever I can get him.

Calling after him is pointless, hearing the gym door slam shut just before I reach him. I slide my hand over the handle, taking a breath before opening it.

Everything in here is brand new – the equipment is gleaming and blinding from the sharp, brilliant white lights overhead. The halls are pristine in the purest and coldest white, completely opposite from the black tiles that make up the floor. All of the machines – treadmills, rowers and weights – face the big screen on the far wall. It's already on some news channel, blasting out loud from the surround sound speakers on both end walls. After taking it in I move to find Christian taking out a towel from the hidden storage unit and a water bottle. He keeps his back to me as he bolts over to one of the treadmills, throwing his towel over the front and setting it to quick pace. I walk to stand in front of him, trying to get him to look at me but he doesn't; his eyes fixed on the screen behind me.

"Ana, just go."

"Why?"

"Because I need some fucking space and I need to clear my mind. I can't do that if you're standing there."

I remain where I am; persistent and unyielding.

"Ana. I've got a lot to sort out, what with trying to run my own fucking company and taking care of the shit at yours. Please, leave me alone."

"I've already told you that I will deal with it. Why won't you let me?"

"You've already shown your expert skills at dealing with problems. I don't exactly relish the idea of one of my companies, housing my surname, going down the fucking toilet."

I stumble on my feet, his words knocking me for six. I drop my head, looking down at my fingers knotting together in front of me. How does he have this effect on me? How can he take me from ecstatic and reaching for the heavens, to then discarding me and telling me that I'm not up to standard?

I nod my head gently, looking up at him and quietly leaving the room. I pull the door to close behind me, waiting until its shut completely before allowing the few tears threatening to make an appearance to fall down my face. I'm silent, mute even, as I leave the hallway.

_I can do this. I don't care what he says, I can do this. _

_I will prove him wrong._

Reaching the far end of the hall I scoop up my heels, ready to take them upstairs when I saw them – like a moth to a flame; like a shiny new toy for a child: my car keys.

_Fight or flight_.

Throwing my heels back to the floor I slip my feet into them, making a quick grab for my purse and the keys on the side board, glowing like a beacon.

I'm out of the door in seconds, running over to my car and slipping into the driver's side for a change. It roars to life as I push the key hastily into the ignition. For a second I panicked; can I do this?

_Come on! It's like riding a bike: you never forget!_

Nodding my head and reassuring myself I pull out of the drive, slamming on the brakes as I swung around the SUV, moments away from smacking into it. _Jeez, take it down a notch! You'll end up in the ER at this rate!_

I'm out of the gates in seconds, grateful that I've managed to escape before they locked down in front of me – someone finding out and putting a stop to my last ditch attempt at proving myself.

_I'll show you Grey._


	51. Chapter 51

**Disclaimer: The characters portrayed in this story are those in E L James's Fifty Shades Trilogy, therefore they remain her property. The plot and themes in this story are those of the author. The author is in no way affiliated with James. No copyright infringement intended.**

**Clumsy me! I thought I had uploaded this chapter yesterday but coming back here today showed me that I hadn't! Silly, silly me!**

**Currently working on the next chapter - almost finished but just need to check it over for dates etc., you'll probably understand why after reading this chapter or when reading the next.**

**Apologies for any errors, I have read through it but sadly I was surrounded by irritating people while I was trying to check! Urgh, I hate real life!**

**Much love to you and I hope you enjoy! :) x**

* * *

_You're made of steal. You can do this. You're a great driver, Annie. I have faith in you…_

Ray's words of support echo through my mind; the ones he offered me on the morning of my driving test. He took me out for a quick refresher just before I went in, helping to quash my anxiety and reassuring me that I could do it. I need his words now. I need more than his words; I need my Daddy sitting beside me egging me on and pointing out what I need to do, and tell me how on Earth I'm supposed to do this without ending up in the emergency room.

The basics are fresh in my mind – how to start and stop; how to shift, and how to park – you just don't forget that sort of thing, but everything else is a complete blur.

My whole body is shaking uncontrollably, a mix of adrenaline whizzing through my veins and being terrified to the point of crying. My breathing is pretty much non-existent, enough to hyperventilate or pass out.

How is it possible to be this scared of the road, and the responsibility of driving such a beast of a car? I've done this before, albeit a few times but still enough. So why am I nervous?

A side of me believes that this is solely because I've been confined to the back seat for a long time. The longest I've gone without driving prior to this was just a few weeks, between getting my license and Ray buying Wanda for me. _I miss my Wanda_. I've missed her since Christian took her away from me. Even more so when he replaced her with the submissive special! I haven't driven properly, and frequently, since before I met him. The odd times I have but more often than not Taylor is the one in charge, unless Christian decides to obtain control again. He's never one to submit control for too long. I feel suffocated with his control over my driving; so many pregnant women are allowed to drive, and do so successfully and safely – doesn't he trust me?

_It's been happening for a while, not just since you got knocked up!_ I nod my head in agreement; he'd be happier if I was wrapped up in cotton wool and walked around on a leash for the rest of my life. He has to meet me halfway.

Leaving the gates of our home I glance up to rear-view mirror, taking a last look at the house and the iron closing behind me. I freeze as I hit the road; is it worth it? Is trying to prove myself worth the hassle and arguing that will ensue?

_Get it together! You've made your choice, stick by it. He can't tell you you're in charge but only allow you to do so when he wants… that's not how it works!_

Slamming my foot on the gas I'm propelled forward, thrown back in my seat while my fingers grip the wheel and steer the metal to the right. _Fuck!_ It's been too long to remember that the R8 needs just a feather of a touch to sky rocket to ninety! Immediately releasing my foot from the gas and finding the brake I lower my speed, zooming towards the freeway. Feeling the vibrations underneath me I settle a little, relishing in the buzz whispering through me. The buzz is incredible. I feel like I'm floating.

I mingle in with the other cars, though not successfully or unidentified. How many sports cars do you see around Seattle? Hitting the pedal again, less aggressive than before, I stir that buzz inside me. Reaching top speeds I start to weave in and out of lanes, overtaking the slower drivers. Some flip me off but I ignore them, in seconds I'm gone and they're a distant memory. The sooner I get there the better.

Shifting gear is proving a little difficult for such a sleek car, but it's me that's the problem. The Saab would have been a better choice, I had more experience with that car, but I guess impulsive decisions rely on taking whatever options are available. Besides, Christian's probably hidden those keys from me, probably for this reason exactly! He sure as hell is never going to leave keys lying around again after this. I'd be surprised if he even allows me to have a key to the house!

The realisation and horror of what I've done comes from the loud ringing of 'Your Love is King' from inside my purse, on the passenger seat next to me. Even over the blaring radio it rings loud, overtaking all other noise. _Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!_

Turning down the stereo I reach out for my purse, trying to keep my eyes on the road and steer the car in a straight line to avoid the other cars testing my patience.

_Ignore it. He'll go away eventually_… No he won't! He'll be pissed anyway, but if I ignore him it will make matters a million times worse. I definitely do not have the energy for that.

I fumble around inside my purse trying to find it, freezing for a second when I finally reach it. Feeling it vibrating and flashing in my hand I regretted answering the millisecond I hooked it up to the sound system and hit speakerphone.

"What the fuck do you think you are doing?!"

His voice blares down the speaker to me, causing my ear drums to shake and rumble.

"Hi…"

"Hi? What the fuck am I supposed to do with that? What the hell do you think you're doing Anastasia?"

"I'm driving. I thought you would have already worked that out. Surely that's the reason why you're calling me?"

"Cut the fucking attitude. Damn it!" I jump hearing a loud bang. I wonder what's broken now. "Anastasia, you have sixty seconds to get off at the next exit and get your ass back here, or else."

"No."

He pauses for a second, exhaling loudly down the receiver. I can feel his temper rising.

"If you come back now I will pretend that you haven't been this fucking reckless. Why the fuck have you done this?"

I pause for a second, thinking of what to tell him. "You told me to go. You told me to leave you alone, so that's what I've done."

"Fucking hell Ana, I meant go and read a fucking book, get something to eat or sleep for all that I care. I did not tell you to leave the fucking house, or steal the fucking car!"

I can hear him pacing as he shouts at me, his sneakers stomping hard against the wooden floors. I can imagine him running his hand through his hair as he grows yet more irate with me.

"It's impossible to steal something that's in your possession. This is my car."

"And I've told you how many times that I do not want you driving? How many times is it going to take before you take the fucking hint?"

"If all you're going to do is shout at me then I'm going to hang up."

"You can hang up, but I'll still find you." His voice lowers, calms almost, as his tongue flicks out his stern words. "When I find you I will tie you to the fucking bed if I have to. I cannot believe how reckless you are being."

"I won't tell you where I'm going." I whisper to him, overtaking the red saloon in front.

"You don't have to. I'm tracking you."

_All of the cars have trackers in them. Fuck!_

"You have fifteen seconds to take the next exit. I mean it Anastasia."

I scowl at my phone. _I'll do whatever the hell I like!_ I slam on the gas; bypassing the exit with speed and feeling a whirl of adrenaline zoom through my stomach.

"Are you fucking insane?!" He shouts at me, his tone full of anger and spite.

_Fuck off!_ I keep focused on the road, ignoring him and biting down on my tongue to stop me from answering him. It'll only make matters worse. What's the point in aggravating the situation any more than it already is?

"If you don't reduce your speed right this second I will call the fucking cops on you!"

"You wouldn't dare!" I exhale, laughing at him and his audacity.

"Try me. You're carrying my child inside you, how can you do something so stupid?"

"_Your child_?"

"Ana –"

"No. You've said enough." I bite back at him. _It's only ever our child when I'm behaving_.

"Ana, come home. Now."

"I will come home when I'm ready."

"I swear to fucking God –"

"I'll see you when I return."

With shaking fingers I hang up, ripping my phone from the holster and throwing it across the car.

"Asshole!"

I scream out, smacking my fist in the centre of the wheel, just avoiding the horn.

I ignore him as he tries calling me again, his ringtone blaring at me. Turning up the radio to the max I'm able to drown him out. I cannot believe him. Does he think I'm his child?

He's tracking me. He'll find me before I have the chance to do anything.

_Fight or Flight._

* * *

"Excuse me ma'am!"

_Please don't recognise me!_ I cross my fingers, freezing to the spot as I hear him calling behind me and running up to meet my side. I spin on my heel to face him just as he reaches me.

"You forgot your valet ticket." He mouths to me, out of breath and wary. Tugging at his waistcoat he avoids eye-contact. He's no more than eighteen, probably a part-time job to fund his arcade addiction.

"Oh… thank you." I accept the card, shoving it into my purse and attempting to walk past him but he stops me again, jolting in front of me and blocking my path.

"Name? I need a name for the books."

_Name?_

"Just a surname if it's easier." He widens his eyes sensing my awkwardness and unwilling air to give out my name. He'll find me in seconds if I do. I don't know how he does it, but he will.

"Adams." I blurt out. "My surnames Adams." I shuffle on my toes, avoiding his eyes as I give him my Mom's new surname. I couldn't use Grey or Steele.

"Thank you. Have a nice day."

I smile at him, lowering my head and walking off quickly – as quick as I can in my shoes.

I needed to dump the car. I can't let him find me before I have chance to sort this out. I know it's probably caused more hassle than it's worth by going about this the way I have, but I need to do it. Something inside me in compelling me to do this, no matter the consequences.

I drove around for a little while, taking note of my surroundings – unfamiliar surroundings, in a part of Seattle I have seen for only a glimpse. I deliberated with dropping the car off at Kate's, until I realised that bringing her in on this will only add to the drama. A repeat of thanksgiving is not wanted in a hurry! I passed restaurants and supermarkets; an abundance of parking lots that I could leave the car in and make my head start to my office, but they were all too close to Grey Publishing. He will know in seconds where I am heading, so I drove further and further away. I drove until I hit some small, cheap hotel whose name I can't remember. I settled the car into the only free parking bay, between a Chevy and a battered old Hyundai. My car fitted in well, not as if it stuck out like a sore thumb or anything! I stepped into reception and used their restroom before heading out again. They all stared at me, everything about me odd to them – flashy clothes and super expensive sports car to match. Needless to say I was relieved thinking that I had got away without being harassed until the valet came pounding after me.

My BlackBerry has yet to stop ringing since I hung up on him, calls from both Christian's phone and probably Taylor's, though I haven't got his number saved so I can't be sure. Christian's probably commandeered his phone in hopes that I will answer if I don't recognise the number. _Think again Grey!_ Turning off my phone I push it into my purse, stashing it away into one of the side pockets. I know he'll do some of that stalker tracking things on that next!

Hailing for a taxi was easy, a few hurling themselves towards me probably all of them taking in my appearance and realising that I might be likely to tip. I ran and slipped into the back of the one that reached me first.

"Now, where's a lovely young thing like you headin'?"

I look up to see the driver, an older gentleman staring at me. At first his words are spine-chilling and enough to make you want to crawl back out, but looking at him he's harmless. He reminds me of Ray, his blue eyes welcoming and friendly.

"Fifth. Please."

He smiles at me, setting off and starting the metre, before looking up at me again.

"That's an awfully long way to go Miss. Could take some time and you look in a bit of hurry."

"I know, but please can you go as fast as possible?" He squints his eyes in concern, "I'll tip double the fare if you!"

"Coming right up!"

* * *

Twenty nine minutes later I'm finally in the lift up to my office floor, bargaining with security to stay on site until I'm finished. They were all 'Yes, Mrs Grey', something that I crave after today. I crave people doing what I want for a change, and not being the one on the other end of the scale and having orders barked at me.

As Christian predicted it is the closing of day and pretty much everyone has left. Heading inside from the sidewalk took a little while, trying to side-step my colleagues leaving for the day. Hannah was surprised to see me returning, offering to stay behind to help but I shooed her away, telling her that I'm fine and to head off home. I was hoping to see Danielle on my travels, probably to take a swing at her for doing this. I had faith and trusted her, giving her the benefit of doubt on the off-chance that what she did it because she was frightened of Hyde, but now I have no idea. Was she in on it all along? Have I been played for a fucking fool?

Maybe Christian's right, maybe I do have a lot to learn and I shouldn't give second chances? I hope not… thoughts of living a lonely life flick through my mind.

Heading out to the lobby floor outside my office I enter into peace and tranquillity, my usually bustling floor streaming with talking, the tapping away of keyboards and the wailing of the copiers, quiet and dead. It's weird being here when it's empty. The last time I remember being held back this late was… well, it was that time with Hyde in the kitchen.

_Shake it off. He's in custody. He's out of the picture… almost._

"Whoa! Mrs Grey, here to see me?"

Turning back from my office I meet eye to eye with Mark, grinning from ear to ear. He's clearly on his way out, with his jacket zipped up over his sweater and shirt combo, and his briefcase in hand.

"Of course. Can't stay away from you." I smile weakly, no where near enough to convince him but he plays along, ignoring it.

"I knew it. You think I don't see the way you stare at me from across the floor?" Raising his eyebrow over his dark eyes I hold back my grin, he has that lovable hilarity about him. "When you gonna tell your old man that that little bambino's mine?"

"About the same time you come out as straight."

"Ah, I suppose I can deal with that hot-shot of yours thinking that your alien is his. Can't have my reputation tainted anyway!"

I swat him with my arm as I pass him, heading into my office and dumping my purse on the chair in front of my desk.

"What you doing here? I thought you left earlier?" Mark comes in behind me, slouching against the door frame as I shuffle out of my jacket. His arms folded around his chest and one leg crossed around the other at his ankle.

"I did, but I've got some things that need dealing with."

"Need me to stay?"

"No, I'm fine. You head off; it's a long day otherwise." I assure him, smiling as I tug at my ponytail, tightening it and smoothing the fly a ways from my face.

"I don't mind staying if you need me. Anything for a lovely lady like yourself."

"You do realise that flattery won't get you a raise?" I smirk at him, pushing my hands to my hips.

"I know, but a guy can try right?" Pulling back from the door frame he stretches, pushing his back out showing the strains of sitting in front of desk for eight hours a day. "Now, if you're sure you don't need me, I have a date with two gorgeous guys who have the key to my heart."

"Two?" I twist my face in shock. Last time I checked he was committed to some younger Scottish guy. _Harry_?

"Oh yeah, they are just amazing." He pauses for a second, the grin from before creeping across his face again before putting me out of my misery. "Yeah, Ben and Jerry are elusive and hard to get, but I'm sure I can pass on your number to them when I'm finished."

"Ah, don't burden yourself. I've got a couple of Ben and Jerry's hanging around away." Ben and Jerry's and Ana sounding like a great combination right this second, though adding Christian to the mix makes it perfect!

"Can tell… Jeez, you're getting fatter each time I look at you!"

"You're pushing it Griffin!" I call out to him as he turns, roaring with laughter as he walks across the floor towards the lifts.

"Oh, Ana!" Spiralling on his heel like the exorcist he shouts back at me, jogging to my door once more and poking his head around the side. "Forgot to tell you, Butler called for you."

"Who?" Slumping into my chair I glance up at him from my computer, waiting for it to come on.

"Anita Butler. You're trying to sign her up to earn a shitload of money?"

"Oh, yeah course!" The author of the manuscript I haven't even started!

"She called to arrange the meeting to discuss contracts and what not. Do you want the good news or not so great news?" Tossing back his shoulder length chocolate mane from his face he examines my face, neither of his options appealing to me.

"It doesn't matter; it isn't going to change anything."

"She's able to come down from New York to meet with us, which is good. I mean, stops you and the alien having to fly out there. But, she's only coming down to Portland. No shifting her on it."

"Portland?"

"Yeah, she says that she's able to meet there because she's got family stuff to deal with, and she's hoping to kill two birds, blah blah blah."

"It makes sense. Did she say when she'd be coming over?" Whirling my mouse around and jump-starting my desktop I open up my online calendar, ready to pencil it in.

"Monday at four."

"This Monday?"

"Yeah, problem?"

"I have a doctor's appointment, but I can move it." I open up the memo and type in to cancel my appointment with Dr Greene. It kills me to change the dates, Blip should come first, but Grey Publishing needs this deal. I need this deal.

"I can get a team together if you want, we can deal with it." Mark offers to me with sincerity.

"No. It's fine. I'll need you to come down with me though, you free?"

"Sure thing. Signed, sealed and delivered."

"Almost! We've got to get her autograph on the dotted line first!"

Saying good-bye once again he manages to leave the floor and head down to reception, leaving me in a peaceful, quiet haze once more. I fire up my emails, preparing a message to our IT manager, rather than heading down the two floors to meet with him. IT always stay behind longer than everyone else, so I know I will catch him.

* * *

**From: Anastasia Grey**

**Subject: URGENT**

**Date: 30th November 2011 17:58:22PM**

**To: Jeremy Coleman**

I need the details for Ms Danielle Wilkes's personal area – her log in number and her password.

ASAP.

Yours,

Anastasia Grey

Editor, Grey Publishing Ltd.

* * *

I resist the urge to turn on my phone and check how many missed calls and irate messages I have. This is going to be one hell of a headache when it all hits the fan. Christian is never going to let this one down.

I mess around with my older messages, deleting the ones that are old and boring, passing the time until I heard the ping of my inbox.

* * *

**From: Jeremy Coleman**

**Subject: Breach of Confidentiality**

**Date: 30th November 2011 18:05:10PM**

**To: Anastasia Grey**

Mrs Grey,

I am sorry to inform you but I cannot perform that task.

I am only authorized to give out that information to senior management.

Yours,

Jeremy Coleman

IT Support Manager, Grey Publishing Ltd.

* * *

"You have got to be kidding me!" I push out through gritted teeth, typing out a quick response full of anger and venom.

* * *

**From: Anastasia Grey**

**Subject: Orders**

**Date: 30th November 2011 18:08:45PM**

**To: Jeremy Coleman**

I will make this clear to you. I am senior management, which therefore gives me the right to ask for this information as well as the right to obtain it.

Need I also remind you that my husband owns this company?

I would suggest that you send over the information I asked for as soon as possible before I start advertising for a new IT support manager who can fulfil and undertake tasks such as this.

Anastasia Grey

Editor, Grey Publishing Ltd.

* * *

**From: Jeremy Coleman**

**Subject: Duly noted.**

**Date: 30th November 2011 18:11:56PM**

**To: Anastasia Grey**

Mrs Grey,

Please accept my apologies. However, Mr Grey gave strict instructions that such tasks be undertaken with his approval.

With that being said I appreciate and value my role here, therefore as requested the information for Ms Wilkes's work area is below.

I would like to add that it would be appreciated if you could pass this on to Mr Grey: that I have followed your instruction.

[MS DANIELLE K. WILKES]

LOG IN: DKW55120001

PASSWORD: samann13

Yours,

Jeremy Coleman

IT Support Manager, Grey Publishing Ltd.

* * *

Smiling to myself I send a quick message to HR, informing them to go ahead with the removal of Danielle from employment here. The papers have been filed since Christian issued them when we found out about her connections with Hyde, but with my stupid decision to keep her on they were filed away, on the off-chance that they might be needed. Who'd have thought we'd need them so soon?

Sending the message I log out of my computer, signing back in again with Danielle's details. I hack into her emails first, surely if there's anything to find it will be in there? She's linked to that bitch somehow, more than her just being the daughter of one of her employees. She gave her the use of her card for fucks sake!

"Oh my fucking days!"

I sigh, opening up the emails and finding over a thousand emails in her inbox. Does she not know how to delete old ones? I'm going to be here all night if I have to sift through every single message!

Picking up some of the tips from Kate's master class of computer skills, the one she gave to me during college, I hit search and start looking for something incriminating.

I start by typing in Jack Hyde, relieved to see 'no search results found' flash in front of me. At least that's something!

_"Elena?"_

I type in her name and press enter.

**[No Search Results Found]**

"What the fuck?"

I strum my fingers on the keyboard, tapping furiously.

_"Mrs Lincoln?"_ I whisper to myself while typing in her full name.

**[No Search Results Found]**

"Jeez, you have got to be kidding me!"

I swing around in my chair, pushing my hands to my head and hoping to draw inspiration from somewhere.

_What else is there?_

"Come on Ana, think!"

Jumping out of my chair I begin to pace the room, walking around my desk and wracking my brains. _What would she go under?_ I know there has to be something here! She hasn't deleted any emails; she's got to have left something!

_Think…_

_Think…_

_Think…_

"Ah!" I scream out, running around my desk and kicking my chair out of the way, dropping to my knees in front of the desk.

Reaching up I tap out my eureka moment into the search bar.

**[Esclava]**

I throw my head back laughing to myself when a stream of emails pop up, listing in front of me. Pulling my chair up behind me and heaving myself up to sit back in it I open the first email, from late September. I scroll right down to the bottom, looking for the signature mark.

_Her mother works there, it could be her_. I stick my tongue out to my subconscious trying to be logical after seeing the signing off…

_E L_

"Bingo!"


	52. Chapter 52

**Disclaimer: The characters portrayed in this story are those in E L James's Fifty Shades Trilogy, therefore they remain her property. The plot and themes in this story are those of the author. The author is in no way affiliated with James. No copyright infringement intended.**

**Right, so this chapter was originally a lot longer! I'm sure you'll understand - quite a few emails coming up. However, to not overwhelm you I have split it into two. The next one will follow shortly, I am still working on it seeing as I am adding the chapter after to it. I have no idea if any of that made sense, it did in my head! :P**

**Once again, thank you for reading, favouriting and following, and for taking the time to review. It means a lot.**

**I hope you enjoy and I look forward to hearing from you soon.**

**Much Love :) x**

* * *

Rolling my chair along the carpet to bring it closer to the desk, I perch my elbow on the edge to support my head feeling a little tired. I don't care how long I have to sit here; I will read every God damn message until I find something. At least I hope I find something. If there isn't anything here then I have no idea where else to look, short of hacking into her phone records. I'm not even sure if Christian has the power to do that. I'm probably underestimating him again – that man can do anything once he puts his mind to it, though I don't know if this amuses or scares the living daylights out of me!

Deterring my attention from the screen I reach across to turn on the desk lamp beside me, the overhead not enough for this time of today and to avoid eye strain. Up until this point I hadn't really noticed the time; I should be at home, eating dinner and thinking about maybe snuggling on the couch with Christian before taking a long soak in the tub, to then curl up under the covers…

_Keep focused!_ I have no doubts that he will find me; no doubts at all that he could easily waltz in any minute now, throw me over his shoulder and remove me from the building kicking and screaming. It wouldn't be the first time, and he does seem to think I'm a child. No one should be carried like that if they're over the age of six!

I turn back to my screen, glancing at the picture frame next to my computer - a small photograph of Christian and me on the day of my graduation, the one taken by the photographer. It's not my favourite picture of us together, but it was the beginning. It was seven months ago and life was easy – boring, but easy. I had just met the most insanely handsome man on the planet, given him my virginity and looking into starting something between us. I reach across and trace my fingers over him, his eyes fixed on me in the picture. For all the love in my heart he tests my limits, in more than just a sexual way. I pull the frame down, turning him away from me so I can concentrate. I've never been able to concentrate when he's around, something I can empathise with him on. I move back to my screen, determined to do this. I've come this far, it would be fatuous to fall at the final hurdle.

I scroll back to the start of the first email, making a note to take particular interest into the dates of each one – it might tell me something, or I can at least think of where I was. Was I here or at home? Was I with her when she sent it, or received one?

* * *

**From: ESCLAVA Personnel**

**Subject: Warm-hearted Congratulations**

**Date: 29th September 2011 09:39:02AM**

**To: Danielle Wilkes**

Dearest Ms Wilkes,

I would like to offer my sincerest congratulations to you on successfully obtaining your role in Grey Publishing.

I was thrilled to hear from your mother that you had been offered the position. I knew it would be perfect for you the moment I heard that you shared an interest in publications, and I found out the unfortunate news of Mrs Grey's accident. Being a close family friend, and personal confidante of Mr Grey, I suspected that they would be in need of some additional help during this time.

I hope that your time there is enjoyable, profitable and valued. I am sure under the watchful eye of Mr Grey you will find many doors open for you. Working under the name Grey is an invaluable addition to any résumé.

As a friendly offering I would like to offer some guidance to you. I have known Mr Grey for many, many years now and I have personally been witness to mseveral of his business related issues, and have given delicate and intimate advice to him. If, for any reason, you find yourself in a situation less than perfect, please feel free to contact me. I can help you, should you need it.

I'm here for support should you require it; for both you and your mother.

Well, with this I shall let you get on with your day. I'm sure with it being your first day you have a lot of work to tackle and settle with. I have passed on a small congratulatory gift to you mother, I hope you have received it?

Yours,

E L

N/B: If you are to reply to this message, now or any time in the future, please refer to me solely as 'E' or 'E L'. I understand this is bewildering, however please note that this is an open email account, usable by all senior management.

ESCLAVA Beauty and Holistic Therapies

* * *

"I'm sure you're willing to help her, you fucking bitch."

I whisper under my breath as I read, huffing and puffing through the audacity and determination in her writing.

It's all false. _Everything about her is false!_ In my mind I can imagine her lying on a ridiculous velvet chaise lounge, barking orders at one of her minions to type whatever spurts off her vicious, serpent tongue. Her platinum fakery blinding under dim chandelier lighting, while her latest sub feeds her grapes in between each audacious order. The last time I heard anything he was called… Isaac? I can't visualise that any of them last for a substantial period of time; surely they'd grow sick of her demeaning and sickening lifestyle? What Christian and I have had was kinky fuckery; it was fucking to begin with, but became love. We still had vanilla, even from the very beginning. What she does is sick. She gets her kicks out of beating people and then abusing their bodies in other ways.

_Why would she go by her initials?_

I toy with the logical side of me and the pessimist lurking in the back of my mind; the pessimist who second guesses everything relative to that fucking bitch. On one hand her reasoning seems somewhat plausible; if it is an open account then others may, inadvertently, read messages intended for someone else. But surely it would make more sense to draw attention to whoever the email is intended for in the subject line? That's where I fall short of logic, turning into a detective scowling through her motives.

_Unless she knew?_ Maybe she knew we would monitor the system for her name? If she's only ever using her initials then there is a lesser chance of any attention being brought to her.

"That's why she's using her Esclava account!" I mumble, a light-bulb shining bright and heavy over my head like halo.

But why hasn't this flagged up before? How could security miss this trick? It's not the most ingenious plan in the world!

"Christian… if you're keeping things from me again!" I trail off, ideas of ripping his balls off and putting a complete halt to any more Grey's popping up in my mind. Somewhere I have hopes that he'll hear me, using some of his freaky ass mind-reading crap.

I come back out of the message, heading to the latest one and scrolling back to the bottom, saving time in the long run from having to head back and forth to read them. There are several emails here, by the looks of it each and every one with her 'E L' title. How long is it going to take to read all of these? Glancing at my watch I know I don't have much longer until he puts two and two together and comes out with my office!

_Come on Grey, time to find out what this bitch is up to!_

* * *

**From: Danielle Wilkes**

**Subject: Thank You**

**Date: 29th September 2011 10:03:49AM**

**To: ESCLAVA Personnel**

For the attention of E L,

I cannot express my gratitude and thanks to you enough for suggesting me for this role.

I was surprised to even hear about a possible vacancy. I had been religiously combing through the newspapers and internet for work in publishing for several months and hadn't come across anything for Grey Publishing. Did Mr Grey personally ask for your input in finding someone, because I do not think the position was publicly advertised?

I shall bear that in mind, though I hope that there will be no need for your inclusion. From what I have seen so far Mrs Grey is approachable and welcoming, so I am sure that if any problems arise then I can bring it to her attention. Also, I am under the impression that this is her company? In that instance Mr Grey's involvement would be valueless.

Thank you for the watch; it is beautiful however, I do not hesitate to assure you that it was unnecessary but gratefully received. You have done so much for both my mother and I already, especially in offering to cover our finances while we get on our feet again. My mother and I are grateful for everything.

Thank you once again.

Yours,

Danielle

Danielle Wilkes

Assistant Editor, Grey Publishing Ltd.

* * *

**From: ESCLAVA Personnel**

**Subject: Clarification**

**Date: 29th September 2011 10:14:57AM**

**To: Danielle Wilkes**

Dearest Danielle,

I am glad that are finding Mrs Grey to be so friendly and welcoming, however heed a small warning that she is not the owner of the publishing house. The rights and control of the company are solely in Mr Grey's name. He may be married to her but that does not automatically denote that she is in charge, simply because she works there. I have found that Mrs Grey is quick to jump to conclusions, assuming that everything her husband owns is hers by right.

You are correct that no vacancy was publicly advertised.

Mr Grey was not initially looking for anyone to step in while his wife recovers from her bout in hospital. However, I took the initiative to help with the process of finding someone for him. I suggested you for the role simply because I have heard a lot of wonderful things about you from your mother. How fortunate was it for her to begin work with us just a few weeks before this? It appears fate was worked wonders for all of us.

There is no need to thank me; I am thrilled to have been able to help yourself and Samantha. The watch was just a little something to celebrate your first day.

Yours,

E L

ESCLAVA Beauty and Holistic Therapies

* * *

_I doubt it was just fate that brought all of this together._

Moving through the next message I see a leap in time from the previous. _So it isn't a daily occurrence then?_

* * *

**From: ESCLAVA Personnel**

**Subject: Hearing Great Things**

**Date: 28th October 2011 15:52:13PM**

**To: Danielle Wilkes**

Dearest Danielle,

I have heard great things from your mother that you are now an Acting Editor?

Samantha informed me that Mrs Grey has been taking some time out from the office and you have shown yourself as competent in taking the lead. I was under the impression that she would have returned to work full time by this point, seeing as her accident was relatively minor.

If you keep this up, proving yourself and making it known that you are interested in launching a career for yourself in the great Grey empire, you will well be on your way to great things. Mr Grey is well known for promoting within and setting up his key players for wonderful things.

I hope you are well?

Yours,

E L

ESCLAVA Beauty and Holistic Therapies

* * *

**From: Danielle Wilkes**

**Subject: Some truth**

**Date: 28th October 2011 15:59:34PM**

**To: ESCLAVA Personnel**

Dear E L,

I have been taking on more responsibility here for the past few weeks; Mrs Grey has been in and out of office for a while now, surrendering control to me in her absence. I have proven myself and fully intend on making it known that I am here to stay and want to succeed.

I hope someday to go on to become a senior editor, or maybe even editor in general. A few rumblings around the office are that Mrs Grey may take a step back from working, maybe to start a family.

I am well thank you, I trust you are too?

My mother told me about your kind gesture. It came as quite a shock considering the amount needed for the deposit. I have thanked you countless times but I do, sincerely, thank you from the bottom of my heart. I have no idea how I will ever be able to pay you back.

Yours,

Danielle

Danielle Wilkes

Assistant Editor, Grey Publishing Ltd.

* * *

**From: ESCLAVA Personnel**

**Subject: I'm sure something will crop up.**

**Date: 28th October 2011 16:07:11PM**

**To: Danielle Wilkes**

Danielle,

As ever I am happy to help you both. Your mother is a valued employee of mine and you are both wonderful company to keep. It is nothing to help out someone who is worth a lot to me. Whether it is employment or, in this case, a substantial deposit to secure a home, I am excited to think that you can come to me for help.

I am sure that at some point there might be a time where I will need your assistance. I do not expect monetary retribution at all.

Children on the horizon? I am sceptical over that – Mr Grey has previously expressed his concerns over having children with Mrs Grey. Please, keep your ear to the ground on this and report to me if you find anything? I would imagine Mr Grey would tell me himself, but being as busy as he is I cannot always manage to get him to sit still for long enough a period to have a lengthy discussion.

I am very well, all the better for hearing such wonderful things.

Yours,

E L

ESCLAVA Beauty and Holistic Therapies

* * *

_Bribing them with money?!_

"She is something else!" I exhale, emptying my chest of exasperation.

I skim the next few emails, all of them about her giving them something…

_Giving her mother a raise; covering the repairs on Danielle's car; paying off the remainder of her student loan..._

All she's done since the off is bribe them; keeping them sweet while all along she is sucking them into her web.

* * *

**From: Danielle Wilkes**

**Subject: Help Needed**

**Date: 2nd November 2011 15:13:58PM**

**To: ESCLAVA Personnel**

Dear E L,

I am in need of some help.

I think I've screwed up.

Earlier, in the staff meeting, I made some unruly comments to Mrs Grey. I pushed myself for a more senior role, which didn't go down well with her. Right now I am in Shit Street and need some help.

How should I tackle this? I really don't want to lose my job because of this.

I hope you can help. I remember you telling me you have ways of helping me where Mr and Mrs Grey are concerned.

Yours,

Danielle

Danielle Wilkes

Assistant Editor, Grey Publishing Ltd.

* * *

_More senior role? You were after my fucking job! _

I think back to that day - the meeting in the conference room, telling them about my pregnancy and running to Christian for comfort.

Did Elena know about our baby before Christian let it slip?

* * *

**From: ESCLAVA Personnel**

**Subject: Dinner Tonight.**

**Date: 2nd November 2011 15:41:32PM**

**To: Danielle Wilkes**

Danielle,

Meet with me for dinner this evening and we shall discuss it. Come by the salon after you finish.

I am sure that it is not as bad as it seems and we can sort this out. Mrs Grey has a fiery temper, but I am sure that after she has calmed all will be well.

I look forward to seeing you.

Yours,

E L

ESCLAVA Beauty and Holistic Therapies

* * *

**From: ESCLAVA Personnel**

**Subject: Has the dust settled?**

**Date: 3rd November 2011 11:23:02AM**

**To: Danielle Wilkes**

Danielle,

How are things at work this morning, now that the storm has passed a little?

As I reminded you last night, keep your head down and do whatever is asked. She can be difficult but in time she caves in. However, it would be easier to resolve this issue if I knew exactly what the incident was over. I am planning on meeting with Mr Grey soon and hope to bring this to his attention, if I know everything then the quicker this will be resolved.

Yours,

E L

ESCLAVA Beauty and Holistic Therapies

* * *

**From: Danielle Wilkes**

**Subject: From bad to worse.**

**Date: 3rd November 2011 12:03:44PM**

**To: ESCLAVA Personnel**

E L,

Things are no better this morning. The only positive is that Mrs Grey isn't here. Her assistant, Hannah, was called this morning and told that she was working from home today.

I'm still in a lot of bother. To say I've had my knuckles rattled is an understatement. I'm no longer allowed to submit files without being checked beforehand, and I'm not selected as the 'Acting Editor' in her absence any more.

As I said yesterday it was nothing. I just suggested that I was capable for more senior roles within the company. I irritated Mrs Grey by insinuating that I was capable of carrying out her job. Nothing more.

I hope you can have words with Mr Grey and work this out for me. I doubt talking to Mrs Grey myself would do me any favours.

Thank you once again,

Danielle

Danielle Wilkes

Assistant Editor, Grey Publishing Ltd.

* * *

**From: ESCLAVA Personnel**

**Subject: I will try.**

**Date: 3rd November 2011 13:02:47PM**

**To: Danielle Wilkes**

Danielle,

I will try to sort this out for you. Mr Grey can be easily swayed if you know which buttons to press. I know him intimately enough to easily tackle this on your behalf.

If that's all then I'm positive this will be a five minute operation.

I will contact you with whatever progress there is.

Yours,

E L

ESCLAVA Beauty and Holistic Therapies

* * *

_Intimately._

I feel bile rise in my throat from the anger swirling inside me. If only it was possible to legally find some way to rid her from our lives. Permanently.

If she was run over by a bus tomorrow I would throw a party. I would stand at her graveside and laugh until I can't stand up straight. I would never have thought it possible to think so ill of someone to the extent of wishing them harm, but Elena fucking Lincoln pushes her luck.

The only solace I find from this is that Danielle didn't tell her about Blip. Christian takes full ownership for that one!

I quickly skim over the last few emails to check how many more there are and find just a few. Glancing at my watch I check the time – 18:47PM. I'm surprised I've made it th-

"Mrs Grey."

_Shit._

Rolling my chair a little to the side, moving out from the hidden security of my computer screen I meet his eyes. His hard blue staring at me, scowling even.

"Taylor."

I nod my head to him, adjusting my position to match his. It's obvious to everyone that he's had some form of military training in the past, simply from the way he stands: feet shoulders width apart, hands clasped together in front of him and his head held up high.

"Mrs Grey, we're here to escort you home."

"We?"

As I mumble out of confusion Ryan and Sawyer enter into my office, moving to flank him on either side. It's like looking at clones, each of their suits too similar to be made from different stores. Even their hair looks the same, though Taylor pulls off the buzz cut more successfully than the others.

"Ma'am." Sawyer, standing to Taylor's left greets me with a single twitch of his head. Ryan mimics him, but avoids eye contact.

"Where is he?"

"Mrs Grey, we've been sent here to escort you home." He repeats, everything he's saying rehearsed and reeking of Christian Grey.

"As I've told Christian, I will return home when I'm ready." I resume back to the task in hand, moving closer to my computer and ignoring them.

Adjusting his stance Taylor edges forward slightly, gaining my attention again.

"Mrs Grey. You are to return home, now."

"And I –" He cuts me off, his eyes boring into mine and stinging them a little from his arrogance.

"Mr Grey is insistent that you are to come home now. He has given us permission to use force, if necessary."

_"Force?!"_ I squeal, slumping back into my chair. "He's ordering you to man handle me?!"

"By whatever means possible."


	53. Chapter 53

**Disclaimer: The characters portrayed in this story are those in E L James's Fifty Shades Trilogy, therefore they remain her property. The plot and themes in this story are those of the author. The author is in no way affiliated with James. No copyright infringement intended.**

**Apologies for the delay! It's taken a while to work through this chapter. I've split it into two chapters, the next one will follow shortly. I would submit it straight away, as it's already written, but as it's late I wouldn't hesitate in thinking that there are a tonne of mistakes! **

**Anyways, I've loved reading your reviews from the last chapter. Christian was a little over the top wasn't he?! **

**Much love and I hope you enjoy! More coming early tomorrow morning - UK time! :) x**

* * *

"No… No, he didn't… He didn't tell you that you could do that, right?"

I ramble on; a mashed-up and uncontrollable blur of sounds trickling off my tongue as I try to interrogate him. The complete inside of my mouth feels like a dentist has gone crazy with the anaesthetic shots; my tongue swollen and inept, closing off my ability to communicate like a normal person. I find myself panting as I try to question him and find some sort of answer.

_No._ Not even my fifty-shades-of-fucked-up, 'I like to fuck little brown-haired girls like you because you remind me of my mother' Christian Grey would do this.

Why would he?

_He wouldn't._ I repeat to myself._ He can't_.

I keep my eyes trained on Taylor and offer the same level of ignorance to the statues on either side of him as they are giving me. They are mirror images of one another, separated only by the chief in the centre leading this situation. Their hands are pulled behind their backs, exposing their holsters strapped around their chests. I feel a little uneasy that they still carry guns, grateful that they're protected but scared that they may require it. It scares me to think something that bad could happen... again. Their eyes are fixed to a random spot on the wall behind me, un-phased when I jerk around in front of them to gain their attention. Absolutely no responses to my silent probing, none at all. The way they're standing reminds me of our time in London; I must have dragged Christian around for hours on end in a desperate attempt to trigger some sort of reaction from the guards protecting the Queen's palace. I tried walking past, screwing up my face and throwing out strange sounds, prompting Christian to question my sanity. I gave it my all, my undivided determination but they remained immobile and dedicated to their mission. Just concrete figurines in scarlet red and majestic fur hats. They even ignored Christian's attempt, dipping me low and planting a loud and sloppy kiss on my lips, usually a public display of affection triggering at least an eye roll – I know it earned my behind a beating that night! At least the other tourists seemed to enjoy it, Taylor not so much.

I give him credit, I have no idea how he did it. How did he follow us everywhere on our honeymoon, knowing what we were up to and having to pretend he was oblivious? How can he look me in the eyes having chosen underwear for me? How can he look at either of us knowing about Christian's lifestyle choice and how, and more to the point why our relationship began? What must he have thought watching all of the others coming and going?

_Don't even attempt to think about that now. The last thing you need is to think about all of those girls he's fucked senseless. _

_Being dragged from the room by three burly men while wailing like a banshee is not a good look!_

"This is his idea of a joke, right? Pay back for pissing him off?"

I let out a giggle, turning quickly into a full-blown laughing fit. It pours out and should be enough to convince someone I genuinely think this is hilarious, but it's not. Nothing about this is funny.

I push both of my feet to the floor and rise steadily from my chair. I reach out for the desk to support me as I lift, feeling a little winded and frail. My stomach is flipping and twisting, Blip's domination of my insides making me feel sick as he swirls and does somersaults.

"Mrs Grey, we are here to escort you home." He repeats again, everything he has said rehearsed – a script from his master or from a monkey hiding behind me with a cue card.

"T-taylor?"

I stutter, hunching forward I reach out with my shaking fingers, settling both palms on to the edge of my desk for support. I try to regain myself, the overwhelming nausea tipping over to the projectile vomit lane. I take a few deep and long breaths, filling my lungs completely and calming the storm for a second.

Looking up from my hands I search for an answer, shifting my head to the side as I examine him, though it arrives in the form of silence. Pushing his eyes to the floor and dipping his head he drops his eye-line to the gap between his feet, giving the carpet his attention.

He's being serious? He really ordered them to do this?

"Just leave. Please, leave me alone." I whisper to them, feebly waving to the door while grappling the desk with my other hand. The desk is the only thing keeping me upright right now, my heels adding to the struggle for stability.

"Mrs Grey, we are –"

"I know!" I whine, sick of the same mantra bleeding into my ears. "I know _'we're here to escort you home'._ Well tough! I'm not going to allow you to force me from this room. Christian can go and fuck himself!"

They don't move. All three of them stay exactly where they are, their feet glued to the floor, bodies stiff like concrete, avoiding my eyes at all costs and mute.

_Am I Medusa or something?_ Are they going to die if they glance at me?

Or am I like the hunchback of Notre Dame - hideous beyond any comparison and far too disgusting to set eyes upon? _Well, you're no oil painting…_

"Please? I am asking you to leave." I press again, gritting my teeth together and pushing the air from my lungs in a hefty breath.

I want to be alone.

I feel it build up inside me, rising from the depths of my stomach to the very top of my head. The anger from not being listened to.

"GET OUT!"

I scream. I snap inside like a rubber band, lashing out and feeling my lungs crush and pop, my throat stinging. "GET OUT!"

With both hands I stretch forward, violently shoving everything on my desk to the floor. I thrash around pushing everything in sight to the ground: my papers, books, pens, photo frames - they all hit the floor, everything bar my computer. I continue to expel all of the air from my chest as I proceed with my onslaught, unleashing my anger and disgust, screaming from the top of my lungs.

"Bastard!"

Completely drained I stumble, becoming light-headed. I manage to slump backwards into my chair, grabbing hold of it as I sink lower. Bringing my legs up I pull my knees as close to my chest as I can, Blip my only obstruction. I push my head to my knees, my chest rising and falling rapidly and hard.

Why? I just don't understand.

I try to fathom it out, letting myself go as I fail to catch my breath, the struggle growing more difficult with each second.

I'm too angry to cry. I'm too angry to speak. I'm too broken to move.

Why does he think he can do this to me? He doesn't own me. He put a ring on my finger, nothing more.

I lift my head in disbelief, hearing the door close in front of me. Shock hits me thinking that finally someone is following my instruction, that I've regained some control, only to be relieved of this thought watching Taylor push the door to a close behind the exiting minions.

"Taylor?"

Shutting the door and closing us in he turns to me, a weak smile stretching across his lips as he spins, making a move towards the mess on the floor – my mess. Tugging at his slacks, hitching them up slightly, he drops to his knees to crouch down. Examining the damage for a second he moves swiftly, collecting the papers and stacking them into a somewhat neat pile and lifting them to the edge of my desk before continuing.

"You don't have to do that." I urge him, guilt spreading as I push out of my chair and move to take over.

Raising his hands in protest he stops me with another smile. I think this is the most I've ever seen him smile, usually a hard professional that refuses to blur the boundaries.

"I've got this covered. You just sit back for a minute."

I deliberate whether to allow someone to clean up after me, falling back into my teenage years: Ray made it clear that if you make the mess, you clean it up. Nodding my head I slump back into the comforts of my chair, watching him like a hawk as he makes light work of the clean-up. In minutes all of the papers are on the desk, alongside my pens and books. He holds out the frames to me, the glass now scattered and embedded into the carpet. I edge forward accepting them, taking them in my fingers to stare down at them and inspect them for myself. Three picture frames – the picture from my graduation, a picture from our wedding and my sonogram of Blip. My ruined picture frames.

Am I ruining everything?

"Thank you." I muster a smile, grateful for his help.

"May I?" He flicks his hand over to the chair opposite me, asking permission to take a seat. I wave for him to do so, finding it strange for anyone to ask permission, least of all someone who knows me rather well.

"Thank you, ma'am."

Undoing a button he flicks open his jacket, making it more comfortable to take to the chair. He lets out a slight grunt as he falls back but pretends he didn't. Leaning forward, resting his elbows to on his knees he hangs his hands between his legs, lifting his head to me and inspecting my mood. I would be worried too if I had experienced my outburst from the outside.

"Are you okay?"

"No." I shrug, unable to hide my true feelings. There's no point in sitting here telling him I'm fine as if nothing has happened.

"Mrs Grey –"

"Taylor, don't bother. Christian can kick and scream as much as he likes, if he wanted me home so desperately he should be here now! He shouldn't send you to do his dirty work!"

"Can I be blunt with you ma'am?" He asks, loosening his starched collar and black tie with his fingers.

"Only if you call me Ana."

"Ah, I don't think that's the right thing to do ma'am." He grimaces, immediately rejecting my outlandish request.

"I'd really appreciate it if you would. I don't think I can handle being called…" I trail off, Taylor nodding his head and understanding the point I'm trying to make.

"Ana." He throws out my name hastily, uncomfortable with this blurring of the lines between boss and employee but deciding to do so to appease me.

"Ana, I understand that Mr Grey was a bit…_ harsh_ with you earlier. I don't want to speak out of turn but he was wrong to do so. He shouldn't have spoken to you like that, but I don't think he really meant what he said."

"Christian never says anything that he doesn't mean. He might regret it later but what comes off his tongue is exactly what he's feeling." I bring my fingers to the bridge of my nose, pinching it hard to try and quash the headache spreading like wildfire.

"Ma'am… Ana." He corrects himself, rubbing his hand across his eyes. "I've known him for several years, and I've known him to go psycho crazy, but I wouldn't think for a second that he'd actually want us to lay a finger on you."

"Would you? If I threw a fit and refused, would you bring them back in here to drag me out? Would you stick by his instructions?"

"Not in a million years." His blue eyes glue to mine, showing his candour and assure me.

"You'd really go against him? You'd risk pissing him off more than he already is?" I question his choice. Taylor always follows his orders, knowing not to push him. Everyone follows his orders.

"Yeah I would. I think he's an idiot for even suggesting it. Don't get me wrong, I have a lot of respect for him but you shouldn't think that way, not to your wife. Especially considering that you're pregnant! But I understand why he said it."

He shifts in his chair, rolling his shoulders and showing the strain of working full-time for the Grey's. It's a thankless and tiring job, but with medical and dental benefits to soften the blow.

"I don't –"

"Ana, he just wants you home. He freaked out realising that you had left. I was with him when he discovered you had gone."

"You were?"

He nods his head a little, gulping loudly. It's almost visible on his face that he's working out the pros and cons of telling me this.

"I was called for a debrief, we were heading out through your hallway when I noticed your front door was open. He went to check it and saw the car was missing. I've never seen him run so fast."

"Run?"

"Hell, he bolted up them stairs quicker than the speed of light!" Disbelief lingers on his face, his eyes twitching as he shakes it off. "He ran up the staircase, swearing and shouting. I followed him, I mean even I was freaking out! I found him in your bedroom, ransacking the closet. He was checking the drawers and hangers. Your hangers."

_My hangers?_ Why would he…

"I think he thought you'd taken off. For good this time."

"He thought I'd left him?" I huff out loud, my astonishment bouncing off the walls.

"When he knew that you'd just taken the car and gone off without help he flipped out. He went from nought to sixty in a flash, running around the place and making calls. We tracked your car and he sent us all out to find you."

"I knew he would track me, that's why I ditched the car." I explain, knowing the question would come up eventually.

"I can't condone what you did, hell it was fucking foolish –" His eyes widen in horror, bringing both of his hands to smother them. "I'm sorry for my language."

"Don't worry about it. I seem to have that effect on people." I shrug it off, biting down on my finger nails for something to do.

I drive people to the edge. I've always driven Christian to the edge of insanity.

"Can I ask why you dumped the car?"

"I needed to do this. I know you probably wont understand but I guess I just needed to do something myself. I'm fed up of having him take over all of the time… I just wanted to prove myself."

I needed to prove myself, but I guess I've blown it this time. _Big time!_

"It can't be nice... feeling that way. But can you please not do that again? It was frustrating heading all the way down there to get a call from him. He must've known you'd head here."

"He figured it out?"

_Why are you surprised by this? He knows everything._

"Must have done, though I would like to think we'd have worked it out anyway." Shuffling back in his chair he reaches down into the pocket of his pants, pulling out his phone and grimacing.

"Now, I know you don't want to for quite a few reasons I can imagine, but it would really make us all feel better if you'd agree to come home. Can you do that?"

Taylor rises from his chair, pushing up off his knees and fastening his jacket once again, retorting back to the professional with his face hardening slightly. For a little while I saw Jason Taylor, a human with feelings and not a robot caught up in the Grey crossfire.

"I still have some stuff to do. I can't give up now, I just can't –"

"Ah…" Checking his phone again his lips press hard together. He throws his head back growing impatient and frustrated.

"Christian?"

He doesn't need to confirm this to me, his eyes giving it away.

"How much longer do you need?"

"I don't know… fifteen minutes maybe?" His frown widens, frustrated with my response. "Which means I have ten, right?"

"I can give you five minutes before the shit really hits the fan."

As I accept his offering he leaves the room, pushing his phone to his ear as he exits, pulling the door to a close behind him. I quickly turn back to my computer, forwarding all of these emails over to my inbox and then clicking to send them to the printer out on the lobby floor. I need hard proof of this, something to show for my actions. Though, I don't know what I'll be showing him; I haven't found anything worthwhile, just that Danielle and bitch troll were bosom buddies!

I wait for the flashing icon in the corner of my screen to disappear before shutting down my computer, sliding out of my chair and collecting my bag and jacket from the floor next to the chair Taylor just vacated. I tread carefully over the broken glass, hearing it crunch and shatter further under my weight. I stare down at it as I leap over towards the door, worried that someone might hurt themselves.

Approaching Taylor I bring my hand to his shoulder, turning him to face me. He lowers his phone as he meets my eyes, his face showing concern.

"The glass… From my frames. It's all over the floor. I-I need to clear it up."

"I'll arrange someone to clear it up for you." He assures me, turning his back and moving back to his phone. I can hazard a guess that Christian's on the other end. They way he's pacing the floors, nodding his head and keeping quiet evidence enough to back my assumptions.

Yes, I cause people to curse and be angry, while Christian causes people to squirm and feel about two feet tall! Perfect match!

I stroll over to the printers collecting my papers and checking they've arrived safely. I scan them before shoving them into the bottom of my purse, moving to join Taylor over by the lifts.

We ride in silence on the way down, but he offers some reassurance to me as I grow anxious watching the dial countdown until we hit reception. He stares down at me, throwing a half-hearted smile as we step out.

As we emerge I clock Ryan on the lobby entrance, pacing the floors and jumping to attention as we approach him. He acknowledges me, pushing the door open to allow Taylor to exit first, me following close behind him. I slide into the back of the waiting SUV, Sawyer jumping out of the driver's seat as I enter, switching places with Taylor. I doubt any of them cares about the parking ticket stuck to the windscreen, Sawyer ripping it off and shoving it into his pants pocket as he moves around the car to slip in beside Taylor. Ryan takes to the seat next to me.

I feel cocooned, surrounded by them and one of their over-powering colognes burning my nostrils. My seatbelt offers me some protection, like a security blanket. My own personal seclusion method, keeping me together. Keeping me whole.

I grip hard on to my purse in my lap, toying with the handles as the car pulls away from the pavement and slipping into the mild city traffic of early evening Seattle.

I don't know if I can face him. I don't think I want to.


	54. Chapter 54

**Disclaimer:****The characters portrayed in this story are those in E L James's Fifty Shades Trilogy, therefore they remain her property. The plot and themes in this story are those of the author. The author is in no way affiliated with James. No copyright infringement intended.**

**Jeez, it was a good job I didn't submit this at the same time I did the one last night! It was full of errors and made absolutely no sense! Hope it does now!**

**A lot longer chapter for you all! I couldn't cut this down any more than I have already done so.**

**As much as I love me some Christian Grey, I do love Taylor! :)**

**I hope you enjoy! **

**Much Love! :) x**

* * *

Everything inside the car is silent as Taylor weaves us in and out of traffic. The SUV's fit in well, mingling with the other gas-guzzling metal contraptions on the road. I continue to fiddle and toy with the handles of my purse, tracing the stitching and letting my fingers sting from the repetition.

I'm uncomfortable.

I'm uncomfortable from the silence building around me, wanting to ask for the radio to be switched on but not wanting to break the air first. Though, I think I'm more uncomfortable with the idea of arriving home, having to face him and whatever mood he's in, and having to try and explain everything to him. I want him to know why I did this – why I did it the way I did and have him understand, but secretly I know he won't. Anything out of the realms of his logic goes over his head, registering insignificant and void.

I flick my eyes up to the mirror, a knee-jerk reaction from the shiver trickling down my spine from feeling like I'm being watched. My eyes meet his instinctively; his warm blues throw back an 'it'll be okay' sort of glance but I don't believe him. He has no reason to lie, or hold anything back from me, but I know he's just doing this to calm me. It's impossible to believe him, he may know what Christian is like but he has no idea of the extremes he can go to. He doesn't realise how it feels to have one side of the coin loving and oozing of _my_ Christian, to flip in a second to the other side to meet with his counterpart – the Mr Hyde to his Dr Jekyll.

_No, he is nothing like Hyde. Nothing_.

I guess part of my anxiety is thinking that this may have been the straw that finally breaks the camel's back, that I've pushed him too far this time. I can't pretend to understand why he's said what he did, but if I know him at all he must have been fucking pissed to stoop to that level. My behind twitches in response, feeling raw at just the thought of him and the possible outcomes.

I cock my head slightly, hearing a repetitive tapping from my left, catching Ryan with his head low into his lap and messing around with his phone. I have no idea if he's messaging someone or playing Angry Birds, either way it has his undivided attention. A whirl of dread fleets through my body knowing that at some point I'll have to check my BlackBerry.

_It's now or never._

I reach down into my purse, silently unzipping the pocket I shoved it into angrily before slipping into my escape car. It almost burns as I pull it out and make to switch it on.

_Fuck. Fuck. Fuck._

It loads a lot slower than its usual lightning pace, the reason for this evident from the notifications flying in thick and fast. Thirty-four unanswered calls from Christian's phone hit my screen, quickly followed by a succession of fifteen others from a number unregistered. I gulp scrolling through the list, all of the calls placed within seconds of hearing the same old 'the number you are calling is unavailable.' Soon after hitting this list it buzzes loud and uncontrollably in my palm, an abundance of text messages coming into play. I gingerly open my inbox with hesitance and apprehension, scrolling through the list and noticing each and every one from Christian, all beginning with 'Anastasia'.

I'm always Anastasia when I'm in trouble. It's always been the same for as long as I can remember, my Mom being the main perpetrator behind this. I knew I was in trouble if I heard her wail my full name from somewhere in the house. I know for sure that it'd be the same now if she was around all the time. I guess I'm thankful that I've always been Annie to Ray. He's the only one who calls it me, just plain Ana to everyone else.

I work out the pros and cons of looking through the messages right here, right now. I guess if I check them I'll be able to gauge him mood a little, and possibly gain some more ammunition to throw at him in retaliation to all of this. But can I stomach his words? Can I sit back and read his irate and hurt filled words, harassing and belittling me?

The decision is made for me as I'm distracted from my phone. I jolt my head up feeling the car coming to an early stop, Taylor pulling up the parking brake to secure the car on the slight incline. I'm confused, flicking my vision between all three of them.

_Why have we stopped?_ There is no way we're home yet; we've only been driving for a little while and home is at least a forty minute drive from work!

I make to question them, pouting my lips to expel my question, but I'm bewildered further by Sawyer and Ryan. Quickly unbuckling their seatbelts they hop out of the car, slamming the doors behind them. I twist to stare out of my window, the tinted effect and the closing of day hindering my vision but I see them, just about, walking off into the parking lot – the parking lot housing my white metal contraption, now alone in a mass of empty bays and lighting up from the interior lights of the hotel filtering out on to the lot.

"Now, how much longer are you gonna need?"

"Huh?"

I shift my head towards the front of the car. Taylor's twisting his torso to ask me, his face distorted with one hand on the wheel, the other resting in the gangway between the two front seats.

"To do whatever it is you need to do? Those papers, they're it aren't they?"

"Erm, yeah…" I fumble around hunting into the depths of my purse, pulling out the papers and unfolding the creases.

"Have you got much more to do?"

"I don't know…" I quickly skim the pages, my fingers and thumbs working against me. "I have about… _five?_ Five or so more messages to read."

"Okay."

Turning back to face the dash he reaches for the wheel, hitting some buttons and the outgoing ring pushing out through the speakers and making it evident he's placing a call.

His voice blares out over the speakers after just two rings. I squirm in my seat, hugging my purse to my chest and try to remain as motionless and silent as possible. I don't know if he'll know I'm party to this call, and if he isn't I sure as hell don't want a slanging match via speakerphone!

"Well?" His angry and cold-hearted tone piercing my ear drums.

_Fuck_.

"I've located her sir. We're on our way towards your home now."

"Ah, thank fuck for that!" It softens slightly, a mix of relief oozing through but nowhere near enough to mask the irritation.

_I wonder if he knows I'm angry too?_

My overwhelming anxiety and nervousness is taking over my body and mind at this moment, but deep down I'm still furious with him. I'm as furious as I was in the car earlier today; I'm as furious as I was when I left. It's an endless list of reasons why I'm angry – having our security sent to harass me; being told that they have permission to accost me; being spoken down to and belittled like a child or a piece of gum on his shoes… I could sit here for hours on end listing them all.

"Sir, there is some unexpected heavy traffic on the West. I'm diverting the route to go down the freeway and turn off at the fourth left. ETA will be delayed."

I watch Taylor's eyes as he feeds him this bullshit. He presses his eyes shut and grimaces as he makes up this excuse from the top of his end. It sounds too hasty to be prepared.

"Fine. Just get her home in one piece, if that's fucking possible."

He refers to me as if I'm inanimate – like one of his cars or his beloved Charlie Tango. I suppose it's only right that he likes them better than me right now. They don't defy him and if they do, well, then he can have them fixed to his acute specification and mood.

He can't fix me. He married me the way I am. He knew what I was like and that I am prepared to stand up to him, and if he can't handle that then… I don't know where to go from here.

Christian ends the call abruptly, disregarding anything that Taylor may have added after him. I twist in my seat, gulping to take back the dryness in my throat even further and pushing my head towards the window. I rest my forehead on the glass, the coolness welcome against my flushed and overheated skin. I don't need a compact to know I'm probably a wash of pale and scarlet tones. I stare out for a minute at the lights as Taylor begins the engine once more, pulling away from the sidewalk and the hotel, and following behind my Audi driving off ahead of us. He manoeuvres us a lot slower than normal, switching from the speed of a hare to a tortoise, consciously delaying the journey.

"W-why are you doing this?" I speak out, trying to lift my voice but still it remains a whisper. I gain his attention, his head cocking a little towards me but his eyes fixated to the road and what few cars are around us.

"It's clearly important to you. I don't understand what it is or why you've done it, but you've done it for a reason. Any idiot would know that much and you deserve a chance to see it through."

His shoulders rise to shrug it off and his head shaking a little. He huffs loudly as the car in front cuts us up, frustrated with our speed.

"You know this could all end badly for you. You know, harbouring a _criminal_ and what not?"

"It's a chance I'm willing to take ma'am. Now, you better get reading. I can only drive around in circles for so long before I'm rumbled."

He smiles at me, it reaches his eyes as he glances up briefly through the mirror. He rolls his eyes before returning to stare out through the windscreen.

"Thank you." I mumble, feeling teary but I hold it back. I well up at his kindness.

I nod my head, folding out my papers and flicking through them. I check which ones I have already read, pushing them back into my purse to concentrate on the remaining few.

I slouch back in my seat, pulling at my seatbelt to adjust it around me, bringing the first of the last messages to my attention.

_You don't have long!_

* * *

**From: ESCLAVA Personnel**

**Subject: Request**

**Date: 18th November 2011 09:03:27AM**

**To: Danielle Wilkes**

Danielle,

I have something that I need you to carry out on my behalf.

I will meet with you in person to discuss this, as I am sure that the system over at Grey Publishing is being closely monitored now the truth has come out.

E L

ESCLAVA Beauty and Holistic Therapies

* * *

_'I'm sure the system is being closely monitored now the truth has come out.'_

_What the hell is that supposed to mean?_

Once again this bitch has me at a loss. I think back to the date is was sent, nothing ringing any bells in my mind apart from that it was sent just a few weeks ago.

I move on to the next page quickly, jerking my head to the road and grateful to see the hotel again – Taylor genuinely driving around in circles.

* * *

**From: Danielle Wilkes**

**Subject: Question**

**Date: 18th November 2011 09:29:58AM**

**To: ESCLAVA Personnel**

E L,

I do not know what it is that you require me to do but if it has any relation to work I cannot possibly carry it out.

I jump to these conclusions for your need to discuss this in person.

I have only just managed to avoid being fired, and I know that if I as much as step a toe out of line I will be out quicker than you can snap your fingers.

Apologies.

Danielle Wilkes

Assistant Editor, Grey Publishing Ltd.

* * *

**From: ESCLAVA Personnel**

**Subject: After everything I have done?**

**Date: 18th November 2011 09:51:20AM**

**To: Danielle Wilkes**

Danielle,

Need I remind you that I am the sole reason that you are still employed this very second?

I have spent a long and tiring time pleading with Mr Grey to convince his wife to keep you on. She was ready to fire you there and then after finding out about your relations to Mr Hyde.

You will do well to remember that just one bad reference from a Grey will tarnish your career. You will never find work again.

I think you fail to realise how much this has impacted on me. Do you realise how this looks to have someone I have personally supported, and recommended in good and honest intentions for a role, to end up finding out you have alliances with the enemy?

You have not only brought shame on me, but you have also placed my close and personal relationship with Mr Grey in jeopardy.

After all that I have done for you, supporting both you and your mother emotionally and financially, you are unwilling to undertake just the smallest of favours? I have not once asked for anything of you and now you are refusing to repay me for all of this?

I am so disappointed in you.

E L

ESCLAVA Beauty and Holistic Therapies

* * *

I huff loudly, exasperation breaking out as I read her reply - her reply full of bullshit, lies and condescending speech. _I guess Christian must have learnt that from her?_

She's led her to believe that she's friends with Christian; that she still has a lot to do with him. Just one barefaced lie after another. Lying certainly comes easy to her!

_The truth? She's talking about Hyde?_

_Danielle told her about Hyde?_ I toy with this in my mind, rubbing my temples as the pulsating grows hard and is slowly becoming unbearable.

_She needed help? _

Elena's word from one of her previous emails adds the flesh to this otherwise skeletal confusion: _'I can help you, should you require it'… 'Remember I am close to him, I can help you if you end up in a less than perfect situation'._

Danielle went to her for help, thinking her job was at risk and now Elena's throwing it back in her face? Throwing something back up to her when she had nothing to do it at all! I can't fathom why she is making out that Christian's the one who hired her? He had nothing to with it – I interviewed and vouched for her; I hired her. It was my decision. He only knew that I hired someone to cover the flak from my absence.

_You can't put anything past her, she's making out you're the bad guy!_ She's making out I was the one who wanted her out – surely Danielle didn't believe this? She saw how pissed he was in my office; I was the one who pleaded with him to keep her on!

_She's been taking her for a ride!_ I nod my head in agreement, my subconscious reaching across and skimming the mail with me.

So she really didn't know about Hyde? To say I'm shocked by this is an understatement; something inside me always thought that maybe there was some sort of link there – I mean, it seemed too strange of a coincidence that her mother worked for Elena and she had connections to him. I guess she wouldn't stoop that low, especially if she was using Danielle to break the ice between her and Christian – there's no way she's done this for me, it's all for his benefit.

I throw the page to one side, moving on to the one.

"Ma'am, are you hungry?"

"Huh?"

I lift my head reluctantly, taking in the chance of scenery from outside the windows. He's twisted to look back at me, his window rolled down completely and accepting something from the person on the other side of the car. I duck down getting a clearer view, noticing that he's pulled into a drive-thru though I can't be sure of which once it is. It's definitely not McDonalds.

"No, I'm fine. Thank you." I shake my head, the thought of food making my stomach swirl in disgust. I know I won't be able to hold anything down and I can guarantee having the car valeted is going to cost a bomb!

I'm bemused as he shuffles a drink into the cup holder between the two front seats, the one furthest back and nearest to me. He stretches across the front of the car to reach into the glove compartment. He takes something out, and turns quickly to hand it to me. I accept it without question, leaning forward to take it in my hands to examine it: a thin strip of tablets – small tablets with a name I can't pronounce etched across the foil.

"It'll help with your headache. They're baby friendly so don't worry about taking them. My ex swore by them when she was pregnant with Sophie."

I smile, popping a single pill and placing it on my tongue. I down a considerable amount of the diet coke he ordered for me; I hate taking tablets. I have some irrational fear that they will get stuck in my throat, even if they're the size of a pin head!

"Thank you Taylor. I can't thank you enough for all of this." I whisper, feeling the tablet travel down my throat and disappearing. I place the cup back in the holder and lean back, forcing my head to the rest behind me.

_I needed something for this pain_. This is about the only pain I can actually get rid of easily.

"It's my job." He plays it down, pulling the car out of the outlet and hitting the road once again.

"I doubt all of this is in your job specification!"

"I suppose, but since the day he met you it's been in my spec to look out for you. Since that moment you left his building I've been here, looking out for you. Besides, you're my boss ma'am."

"Christian's your boss. I'm just his wife."

"No, you're my boss. My pay check says Mr and Mrs Grey at the bottom. I work for you just as much as him."

I smile, grin even. His words are kind, sincere and welcome at this very second. I relish and savour them, knowing that they're probably the last kind words I'll be hearing tonight.

I return back to my papers for the last time, assuming that he won't be able to hold off heading home for very much longer. I owe it to myself and Taylor to make all of this worthwhile, or to at least have something to show for it all, to say I tried.

* * *

**From: Danielle Wilkes**

**Subject: I am grateful**

**Date: 18th November 2011 10:08:42AM**

**To: ESCLAVA Personnel**

I am grateful for everything you have done for me and my mother, and I am deeply sorry that I have shamed you and potentially ruined a friendship of yours but I cannot do this. By your lack of reference to it I can deduce that this is relating to my work.

I'm sorry.

Danielle Wilkes

Assistant Editor, Grey Publishing Ltd.

* * *

**From: ESCLAVA Personnel**

**Subject: Final Chance**

**Date: 18th November 2011 10:49:38AM**

**To: Danielle Wilkes**

R and I will meet with you after work.

I think you need to be reminded where your loyalties should lie and that you shouldn't question me.

We shall meet with you at five.

E L

ESCLAVA Beauty and Holistic Therapies

* * *

_R? Who the fuck is R?_

I envision he's her latest toy-boy. Yet another person she's forcing to carry out her dirty work! I guess I was right thinking that they don't last long! I bet she drags them around like a dog, with that sort of weird collar and leash stuff I've seen online.

_She's into that sort of shit!_

I check the date of the next message first, noticing a few days difference. _No reply to that?_

* * *

**From: Danielle Wilkes**

**Subject: Done.**

**Date: 21st November 2011 12:21:09PM**

**To: ESCLAVA Personnel**

I have added all of her information into the system.

I have also sent her a reminder of the times of her interview and a brief description of the applicant process.

Danielle Wilkes

Assistant Editor, Grey Publishing Ltd.

* * *

"What?" I mumble, completely lost and bewildered.

I remain focused, catching Taylor in my peripheral staring at me.

Has she sent this by mistake? It sounds like an inter-work email? _Maybe she sent it to her by accident?_

* * *

**From: ESCLAVA Personnel**

**Subject: Well Done**

**Date: 21st November 2011 12:38:12PM**

**To: Danielle Wilkes**

It's pleasant to know that you can follow instruction.

Did you receive the package?

Be sure to deliver it tomorrow morning straight to Mrs Grey's office. If she enquires where it came from just tell her that it was delivered to reception and you collected it for her.

I still need a way of meeting with her and getting into the building. You will need to work this out.

E L

ESCLAVA Beauty and Holistic Therapies

* * *

My mouth falls open but no sound emerges. Jeez, it's like being kicked in the ribs and I definitely know what that feels like!

_Tomorrow?_

_22nd November?_

I pull out my BlackBerry and check the dates with my calendar. It was the Tuesday before thanksgiving, and the Tuesday she came to see me. The same day that her little 'gift' arrived.

It all comes back to me, haunting my mind – opening the painting; finding her sitting in my conference room; her vile and abusive words forcing to me snap; my palm striking her face.

_'Mrs Grey, a package arrived for you. It's on your desk.'_

_'I have an assistant to do that for me.'_

_'I know, but I wanted to help.'_

* * *

**From: Danielle Wilkes**

**Subject: Confusion**

**Date: 21st November 2011 12:57:59PM**

**To: ESCLAVA Personnel**

I did receive it. I will make sure that it's there.

Why can't you enter via reception and ask to see her from the desk?

Danielle Wilkes

Assistant Editor, Grey Publishing Ltd.

* * *

**From: ESCLAVA Personnel**

**Subject: Questions, Questions.**

**Date: 21st November 2011 13:28:01PM**

**To: Danielle Wilkes**

The reason I cannot simply ask at the reception desk to meet with her is because I am now unwelcome there.

Mrs Grey is extremely angry with you and, understandably, she has shifted some blame on to me for this. I recommended you; my opinion and judgment was respected until this. You are to blame.

I need to meet with her to discuss this and express my apologies.

Although I have never been close with Mrs Grey, she is the wife of my closest and dearest friend.

I was also hoping to secure your position further and ensure that she doesn't decide to throw you out over this; however I am now questioning whether I should do this at all.

Find a way.

E L

ESCLAVA Beauty and Holistic Therapies

* * *

**From: Danielle Wilkes**

**Subject: I will**

**Date: 21st November 2011 14:09:44PM**

**To: ESCLAVA Personnel**

You will have to use my key-card to go undetected.

You will need to use the staff elevator to ride up to the fourth floor. It's the one directly opposite the reception desk. I will leave the card in my glove compartment of my car, the key will be on the inside drivers wheel.

I am sorry that I have caused so much trouble for you.

Danielle Wilkes

Assistant Editor, Grey Publishing Ltd.

* * *

I scowl seeing it in black and white that Danielle let her in. She gave her access to her card so she could come up and see me, to make 'amends' and help Danielle out.

I had hoped she may have stolen the card and not led her on yet again. I feel sorry for her, and sick at the same time that she has been used by Elena. Danielle's been oblivious that she was doing all of this for her own back, and that she was never helping her out at all.

Elena is seriously twisted and psychotic, though I'd take a stab in the dark that Danielle has figured this out for herself now!

* * *

**From: Danielle Wilkes**

**Subject: How did it go?**

**Date: 22nd November 2011 14:54:12PM**

**To: ESCLAVA Personnel**

E L,

How did your meeting go with Mrs Grey? She left not long after you arrived and she didn't look particularly happy.

I delivered the package to her office as requested.

The interviews have been cancelled for today; they will probably be rescheduled for tomorrow.

I have contacted Anderson personally to inform her. Can I ask why you needed me to do this? Why couldn't she go through the regular channels to secure an interview?

Danielle Wilkes

Assistant Editor, Grey Publishing Ltd.

* * *

_'I have contacted Anderson personally to inform her.'_

_Anderson?_

"Mrs Anderson."

She's another fucking cog in her scheme?

"For fucks sake!"

I slam my hand to my head, pounding my skull a little more aggressive than I planned, reversing the effect of my pill.

_Why didn't I figure this out?!_

One minute she's there and then she's gone, with just a dodgy note arriving on my desk. _Why didn't I see this coming?_ Normally I'm the first one to spout out bitch trolls name when something doesn't sit right and smells of deceit.

_So why did she leave?_

Did Danielle get to her first? Telling her to go and not bother? Or did that fucking bitch pull the plug on it all? Did she have a change of heart?

_Heart? You've got to be kidding right? She's a bloodless creature. There is nothing human about that._

I can't believe any of this. I just can't.

I fold out the last page glancing out of my window and seeing that we're drawing closer to home. I flip it over to check that it really is the last one.

* * *

**From: ESCLAVA Personnel**

**Subject: You will learn.**

**Date: 22nd November 2011 15:20:55PM**

**To: Danielle Wilkes**

I needed you to go through another channel to secure this for her because I would usually have simply suggested her to Mr Grey. I am sure that you understand why this is unwelcome now?

I made her a promise to help her out. I stick by my promises and ensure that they are fulfilled to the upmost. You, however, seem to not think this way.

I have told you on many occasions to mind your own business. If I wanted you to know something I would tell you.

R will be visiting your apartment tonight. Hopefully this will be reminder enough.

E L

ESCLAVA Beauty and Holistic Therapies

* * *

A wave of sorrow for Danielle flicks through me again. She didn't know any better. She's just another person caught up in the lies and schemes fed by that fucking bitch!

_Why would she do all of this? _

Because she wants Christian back? Friends or otherwise? There's no way. He rejected her and made it pretty damn clear that he doesn't want her.

Revenge? Getting her own back on us for what? The restraining order?

_She called the fucking cops on you, I'm pretty sure this is her idea of payback!_

Detective Clark's words from our impromptu meeting with him zoom from the back of my mind to the forefront. _'She's clearly doing this because of some vendetta against yourselves.'_

Which one of us does she hate the most? Me? I'm the reason Christian came to his senses, saw her for what she really is and cut her out of his life. Christian? Well, he told her to fuck off and leave us alone, filled a restraining order when she wouldn't take no for an answer.

Take your fucking pick, because we're both likely targets.

"Ma'am, we're home."

I'm pulled from my reverie, turning my attention to my window to look up at my house. My R8 is sitting alone in front of the garage, proof that we did take longer than necessary to return home, though this will be our secret. Taylor's covered for me, going against everything he knows to appease me. I owe him everything.

I take a few moments before climbing out, taking Taylor hand on the way down. He stays by my side until we reach the door. He opens it for me, like a true gentleman, but holds on to my arm.

"I'm here if you need anything." He stares down at me, his eyes telling more than the words slipping off his tongue.

"I'll be fine. Thank you."

I try to sound confident, probably trying to assure myself more than I am him at this moment in time. I nod my head and force a smile across my lips, though my insides are screaming. My behind is screaming for mercy already, though the last thing I want are his hands on me. It wouldn't be for pleasure, it would be punishment. Nothing more.

The house is empty and quiet as we enter. Taylor leaves me to my own devices, searching the house for Christian. I head straight for the kitchen to put my now empty cup in the trash.

"Mrs Grey."

He calls after me, meeting the kitchen counter behind me. I spin on my heel to face him, slamming the lid of bin shut loudly.

"Yeah?"

"Mr Grey isn't home. I'm going out to meet him now. If you need anything at all, please call me. I believe you have my number after today."

"That I do!" I giggle. _How have I known him for months and only just obtained his number?_

"Anything at all. I mean it." He nods, urging me again before smiling and charging off through the hallway.

"Taylor!"

I run after him, meeting him just as he exits the door. He jogs over to my side, concerned and eager to know what's up.

I stoop down and reach into my purse by the door. I take out all of the papers and hand them over to him.

"Can you make sure he reads them?"

"I can make sure that he gets them."

_Yeah of course, no one can force that bastard to do anything he doesn't want to do!_

* * *

After a long soak in the tub, washing off my stickiness and perspiration from a gruelling day I slip into a nightgown: a soft pink satin floor gown. Normally I'd throw on his t-shirt, his plain white t-shirt that I've commandeered for bed, but right now I need my own things. I can't wear his things now.

Brushing through my hair I throw back the duvet, sliding in between the new sheets. They're cold against my skin and hard to touch. I love the feeling of new sheets. I love the smell of them too, though they share no comparison to the smell of a new book!

I throw my comb across the floor before stretching over to turn out the light. I check the time on the way down: 12:09AM.

_Oh well, sleeping on my own tonight._

I roll over and give in to the night, wrapping myself around my pillow.

I stirred in a dreamless sleep for a while, or at least what felt like a while – I sleep with my back to the clock to stop me from constantly checking it. I was pulled from my weary state from the dipping of the mattress and duvet lifting.

_He's back._

I lie as still as possible as he slides in beside me, the cold seeping in and disturbing the warmth I've managed to accumulate from lying here for a while.

_Ignore him._ I repeat to myself but I'm unable to, feeling him curl up around me. His chest pressing into my back; his leg wrapping around mine and his head nuzzling into my neck while his hand explores my stomach.

"What are you doing?" I whisper to him, pulling my head away from his.

"I'm glad you're home."

"Get off me."

"What?"

I push my hands to my stomach and peel him from me, shuffling towards the edge of the bed and getting away from him. I feel bile rise to my throat. I'm repulsed by his touch. For the first time I feel physically sick having his arms around me, something I usually treasure and seek.

"Don't touch me."

"Ana? Come on, it's over now. I'm sorry okay?"

"No it's not okay. It's far from fucking okay!" I snap, somehow managing to keep my voice low. "Now I don't care if you lie in here with me or not, but I can't have you touch me right now."

"Why?"

"Because I can't. This isn't over Christian."

"Then let's discuss it!"

"You're kidding right? Am I supposed to come running because you're ready to act like an adult in a marriage? It doesn't work that way."

I push myself to the edge of the bed, pulling my pillow down closer to my head and bringing my knees up to my chest, to curl up in a ball.

I feel him stiffen beside me, silently rolling over to face the other way and moving away from me. Our bed is large enough for us to lie in it together without touching each other at all and still having a lot of room to ourselves.

We're silent.

I don't know which of us falls asleep first. I don't know if he fell asleep at all. All I know is that I let out a sigh, while a single tear of frustration trembled down my face as I drifted.

_Tomorrow._

I'll try tomorrow, but not now.

He doesn't deserve to have me talk to him civilally right now.


	55. Chapter 55

**Disclaimer:The characters portrayed in this story are those in E L James's Fifty Shades Trilogy, therefore they remain her property. The plot and themes in this story are those of the author. The author is in no way affiliated with James. No copyright infringement intended.**

**This is a longer chapter for you all. The next will follow later this evening, I tried to upload it as one document/chapter but I've had issues with doing this. **

**Apologies for the delay, it's taken a long time to write this - for some reason I found this hard to write even though I ready had everything planned out.**

**As ever I have loved hearing from you all. I have tried to respond you each of you individually, so if I haven't yet I will soon! Thank you so much for taking the time to read and review, if I could hug each and every one of you I would! :)**

**Much Love and I hope you enjoy! I look forward to hearing from you! :) x**

* * *

_"Good morning Seattle. Terry Brookes here, filling in for Andrea Quinn, bringing you the overnight news from around the Puget Sound and West. First a quick glance at today's weather. It's a little cooler this morning at forty-five…"_

I turn off the television as I feebly lift myself from the couch, the place I have spent the past two hours and fifty-six minutes lounging in my nightgown and robe. I adorned my robe for my privacy and to avoid yet another argument. The way things are right now I know anything could easily turn into one, especially if he gets it into his head that I'm flaunting myself. Throwing the remote control on to the coffee table I'm oblivious to the fact that my overzealous throw could easily, but gratefully didn't, shatter the glass top or knock over my half empty cup of cold tea.

It's only just turned six and I'm forcing myself to start getting ready for work, having put it off for as long as possible. I could have started getting ready as soon as I rolled out of bed, but that would have meant hanging around for hours until it is acceptable to leave for work. I've already worked it all out in my mind – a bath is a lengthier option to a shower; it may take a while to choose something I find comfortable and appeasing to wear, and attempting to quash the birds nest living in my hair could easily take thirty minutes in itself. All of this perfectly timed to avoid a morning confrontation, though realistically I know I could be ready in an hour leaving me twiddling my thumbs and having to face my demons from yesterday.

I'm tired. Beyond tired, I'm exhausted!

I've had little to no sleep, the only rest I snuck in was the small nap I fell into just before he came home and disturbed me earlier this morning, since then I've been on high-alert and wide awake. I don't think I've ever been so alive inside while the rest of me is shutting down. I just lay there for a long time, looking up at the ceiling and trying to remain as still as possible. I was conscious to not disturb him, in a desperate attempt to not wake him if he was in fact asleep. This wasn't for his benefit, hell the way I'm feeling towards him right now, more so last night, I couldn't care less if he was awake for 48 hours straight as long as I didn't have to talk to him. He was motionless for a long time, his back towards me and facing the door. I was already taking up possession of his side, leaving him to occupy mine. It was strange to have him lying there beside me but nothing invading my space. Even on the rare nights where he hasn't curled up around me I could still feel him – his breath on my neck or his foot resting against mine – but this morning there was nothing.

I had to check him several times to see if he was breathing; I may be angry at him but I'm not heartless! His chest was barely moving and he made no noise other than a small whimper when he eventually moved, rolling on to his back and his head now facing me. I watched him for a little while, his face angelic and peaceful. How can I love him so much? How can I feel this way to just one person? My world starts and ends with him, it always has, but sometimes I just want to shake him and scream until he hears me, until he really hears me. I rolled out of bed before he woke, knowing that he would stir if I was staring at him for much longer. It took a lot of energy to lift the covers and brace the cold air circulating around the room, to trudge over to the bathroom to seek solace. I didn't look up into the mirror, instead just splashing my face with water to revive my stinging eyes. After finishing up and relieving myself in other ways I promptly exited the bedroom, creeping across the floor and past him with my robe in hand, silently closing the door behind me and leaving him in peace.

My intention was to potter around the house and find something to occupy my mind, to keep me going until it was time to get ready, but there was nothing. There was no laundry left behind or a fraction of dust that needed cleaning, nothing at all - once again proof that Mrs Jones is excellent at her job. I instead was coerced to spend the wasting hours lounging around on the couch to watch some mind-numbingly boring programmes. Needless to say there is little on at these un-Godly hours bar the news channels or home-teleshopping, even with the profusion of stations we have. I flicked through the channels, settling for no single one for more than ten minutes. I forced myself to steer clear of the home shopping shows after contemplating buying a home-waxing kit and a children's potty. You know you're exhausted and running on fumes when you genuinely weigh up the options in your mind with the phone in hand. The news channel was sufficient in containing my interest, at least until the changeover of anchorman. The one previously was older, sweeter with a homely voice, this new one has a high-pitched squeak of a voice, is overly-enthusiastic and annoying to the point of contemplating committing a criminal act. No one should be that happy at this time of the morning, no one! Just for once I would love to see someone normal presenting the news, maybe someone nursing a hangover, miserable and grouchy, not someone who's high on caffeine or Xanax.

Leaving the family room and heading in the direction of the staircase I cling to my chest, wrapping my robe around me tighter as I hear someone behind me, settling a little to see Gail making an appearance to start her hard day of thankless work. Sometimes I wonder whether she is paid enough for everything that she does for us, though I know he would pay her more than enough. He treats all of his staff well, at least financially he does, other than that he's a grump with them as well! I know the only reason why a lot of people put up with it is because of his reputation and the fact they can get there healthcare sorted, and paid for, for the rest of their lives. I grab hold of the banister as I climb the stairs, heaving myself up. My legs are heavy and weak. I have no idea how I'll be able to make it through today.

I freeze as I hit the bedroom door, the handle cold in my grip. I have to pluck up the courage from deep inside me to enter, to face him and go about my morning as normally as possible. Pushing the door open I'm a little startled to see the bed empty, just the crumpled sheets taking up residence along with the pillows strewn over the length of the bed. I rub my eyes as the light from the now open drapes burn my retinas. _When did it get light out?_

I hesitate for a second, almost worrying where he might be, but it shifts soon after arriving, the sound of the shower bleeding hot water seeping through the open bathroom door. He never shuts it, not even when he pees. I contemplate waiting on the bed until he finished before I run my bath but I push myself to stop being a coward. He's my husband, I may be angry with him right now but I have nothing to hide from him. I shouldn't feel like a prisoner in my own home.

Entering into the bathroom I walk over to the tub, opening the faucet and beginning my bath. I keep my back to him, the shower parallel to the tub, concentrating on the task in hand. I try to keep my own noise down to go undetected, at least until he steps out. I have no idea how long he's been in there, his usual morning shower taking no longer than twenty minutes. I hope to be in the tub and shrouded in bubbles before he steps out, furthermore hoping that he'll just greet me and leave.

"Ana?"

_The best laid plans of mice and men go awry. _

I keep my back to him, reaching across the tub to grab the bath oil.

"Ana!" He calls out to me again as if I was daydreaming or the noise from both water outlets running was blocking my hearing.

I turn on heel to face, forcing my eyes to focus on his and be blasé to everything south. He's pulled the shower door open, the steam escaping out while he just stands there dripping. The water is trickling down his face from his freshly washed hair, a small bead dripping from the tip of his nose. His hair is clinging to his forehead – I'm not the only one that needs a haircut, his mop longer than it should be. He's leaning against the door, resting his head on his forearm and wiping the excess water from his face as he acknowledges me.

"Baby just hop in here, there's no need to run a bath."

"I'm fine."

I mumble, using up all of my energy to stop myself from checking him out. I'm married to him and yet I feel voyeuristic when I stand there open-mouthed and devouring all of him – his beautiful eyes, his strong and toned torso, his long and throbbing…

_Stop looking! You're supposed to hate him right now._

Hate? How can I ever hate him? I may not like him very much but he's too… _loveable_ to hate.

"Come on, there's enough room for the both of us. To shower separately." He presses, adding in the latter to respect my boundaries from last night.

"No." I snap, the bath oil slipping through my fingers and clattering on the tiles beneath my feet. "No, I want a bath."

I drop to my feet, scooping up the bottle and grabbing a towel to clean up the spillage. He moves to leave the shower to help but I make quick work of the clean-up, steadily rising to my feet once more and throwing the beautifully stained and sweet-smelling towel into the wicker laundry basket.

"Ana, are you okay?"

"Uh-huh." I shrug, lying to him as I perch myself on the edge of the bath, staring at the water as it fills and flicking my hand through the water, stimulating the bubbles forming underneath the faucet.

I can feel that he's staring at me, the burning in the back of head strong and enough to tempt me to spin around quicker than the exorcist to question him. The shower door doesn't close at all, left open to widen his view of me. The burning grows even more intense as I start to undress, a moan escaping from the shower as I throw my robe to one side. Normally I'd play up to it, sashaying around the floor for no reason, bending over at any chance to tease him, before trying my hand at elegantly slipping into the water and start a vigorous and sensual rub down. But that's when he's my Christian, not when this beast of a creature has reared its ugly head and ruined things once again. The creature has made more appearances over these past few weeks than it has done in all of the time I've known him. The creature throws any desires and feelings of erotica out of the window, along with my energy. I have no desires to lead him on or tease him. For the first time the last thing I am thinking about it getting down and dirty with him.

Shrugging the straps of my nightgown off my shoulders I hitch up the bottom, grabbing the hem and lifting it from my body. My breasts and stomach are too swollen to shuffle it down my body, the material tight if I try to shimmy out of it and push it to the floor. I throw it across the room in the direction of the basket before reaching forward, grabbing the side of the tub in my hands and carefully lowering myself into the water. I'm cautious to not rush or act in haste, Blip being my main concern. My only concern.

The water is warm, but not boiling. It's that perfect combination of warm and cool water, the mix you only get after sitting in the tub for a little while once you've already scolded your skin and turned into a lobster. I miss having hot baths; with Blip I can only have warm baths. I'm not objecting, he's my priority and I'd do anything to keep him safe, but I do miss lying back and feeling my skin tingle from the heat, while my muscles relax from being tense all day. I'm tense all the time when Christian's around.

I stretch out my legs, thankful for the length of the tub allowing me to do so. With Christian being a lot taller than I am he has to bend at the knee, unable to extend and relax completely, though he's forced to scrunch up when I'm in here with him anyway. In fact, in all of the time I've known him he has only ever taken a bath with me, the shower his preferred choice if I'm not joining him.

My back is aching somewhat, punishment for my awful positioning on the couch but the water is easing it slightly. I can feel myself relax, just a little, as I wash over my skin. My eyes are closed, the stinging disappearing when they are shut. I jerk my eyes open as I feel something invading my water, ripples and movement startling me. I bolt upright, hunching my back over and wrapping my arms around my chest as I face him, tilting my head to the side.

He's on his knees beside the tub, his torso gloriously wet and nude, with his head resting on the side of the tub, his hand exploring the water and bubbles close to me. His eyes narrow as I cover myself.

"Ana?"

"What? W-what do you want?"

"Nothing. I just wanted to watch you." He shrugs, his fingers trickling over the surface of the water and flicking the bubbles away. "Why are you hiding from me?"

I jolt my head down, looking at my arms clinging to my chest and covering my breasts. I relax slightly imagining how he must be seeing this, though I maintain concealment of my nipples.

"I'm not. You just… surprised me." I lie once more. It's easier to just shrug this off, the truth too much for either of us to handle this precise moment in time. I don't want to break him.

"Oh?" His mouth puckers to a pout, a quick shake of his head dispelling what negative thoughts he had. "Do you mind if I join you?"

"Yes."

"Yes I can, or yes…"

"Yes I mind. Now can you leave?" I reach down the tub, taking the wash cloths in my hands and moving back up through the water "Please?" I ask him again as he remains glued to the tiles.

"Baby, I know you're angry with me but please don't –"

I shut him off, pushing my fingers to his lips and silencing him. "I need some alone time. I have things I need to do."

"In the bath?" He whispers, caressing my fingers with his lips. I pull them away when it becomes too much.

_Don't lead him on._

"Yes. I have things that I need to do that you shouldn't know about or see." I stretch behind me to grab my wash bag, my personal bag where I keep my razors and shaving creams. I don't need to shave, my legs perfectly smooth from yesterday's shower but I need a way out, something to get him to leave.

"You know, I know that you shave…" He traces his fingers along my bag as I settle it on the side of the tub. "I can help you."

A mischievous look creeps across his face, his tongue salaciously tracing his lips as he stares at me.

"Please, just leave."

I goad my eyes to a close, blocking him from my thoughts as I think of fields, candy-floss and babies.

"Are we okay?"

Opening my eyes I jolt my head away from his hand – his hand creeping up to stroke my cheek.

"What do you mean?"

"You know, after last night –"

"Do you really think everything's going to be dandy after just a few hours?" I shake my head. "There's a shitload of things that you did yesterday that has not only upset me, but has angered me."

"You're upset with me?"

"Upset and angry."

"Can we talk about it?" He asks, shifting his weight and lifting his head from the porcelain.

"We'll have to at some point, that's if we want to save us. But not now."

"It's really that bad?"

He almost looks shocked_. Does he really not understand what he's done?_

"The fact that you even have to ask that question really makes me want to hit you."

I grit my teeth. I would never have thought that I would want to strike him but I do. It's bubbling inside me, the only release that I can find to soothe this pressure building up inside me.

"Do it then." Throwing out his arms he surrenders. "Hit me. Punch me. Slap me. Just do whatever you have to do to punish me. I'd much rather you punish me by hitting me than by refusing to talk to me."

"I'm not refusing to talk to you. I just need some time to process all of the shit in my head. I don't want to say anything that I may end up regretting."

"You know I love you and that I am sorry, right?"

Pushing my eyes to meet his I roll my shoulders. "I don't know."

"Whether I'm sorry or that I love you?"

I can't answer him, instead opening up my wash bag and taking out the necessary tools. I can't look at him but my peripheral is focused and dedicated solely to him. With a nod of his head and flick of the water he rises to his feet, grabbing hold on the towel around his waist and exiting out of the room, leaving me in peace and closing the door behind him.

_God give me strength. Give me strength to open up to him and save us. _

I throw the bag to the floor, the contents spilling out on to the tiles as I lean back in the water. I shuffle my behind further down the tub, slowly sinking my head under the water to soak my hair and smother me.

_God, please save my marriage. Please save me._

* * *

"Good morning Ana."

Gail greets me with a beaming smile. I hazard a guess that she knows things are less than rosy between Christian and I; I'd go as far to say that Taylor told her everything – I know he has a confidentiality agreement with Christian but Gail works for us, and they are a couple, it only seems right that she's aware of the situation.

"Good morning." I mumble back, settling into the barstool beside Christian.

He lifts his eyes to me as I take to my seat in front of a steaming cup of tea. I mouth a thank you to Gail as she returns to cleaning up some pots. I turn to look at him, giving into the temptation but he moves his eyes from me abruptly, focusing his attention back to his omelette.

"Would you like me to make you something for lunch today Ana?" Gail asks, breaking the silence.

"No, I'll grab something later. I'm fine."

"Have you already had breakfast?"

"Yes." I fib to her, bringing my tea to my mouth and taking a long and burning sip. "I had some granola earlier."

_I can get something to eat at work._

I don't think I can stomach having to force myself to eat right now, hoping that Blip will have a rest and give me some time to myself before tipping my body into starvation mode. It's a strange feeling having something on both the outside and inside of my body screaming at me to eat. The one on the inside the most persistent but the one I can cope with and tolerant.

"When did you wake?" I can see that she's questioning me. _Did she not see me earlier as I snuck back upstairs?_

"Early. I was watching TV for a long time."

"How long?" Pausing, holding his fork in mid-air, Christian spurts out. I turn to face him, my cup raised to my mouth in preparation for another onslaught should I need a moment.

"Just a few hours. I had trouble sleeping."

"Because of me?"

"No… I don't –"

"If you needed me to leave you should have said. I would have left you alone if it meant you'd be able to rest."

"I'm fine. I've had enough rest, I'll be fine." I ramble on, the hurt in his voice and on his face making my lower lip quiver.

He finishes up his breakfast in lightning speed and throws back the rest of his coffee, the steam proof that it must have burnt his mouth. Pushing his plate to one side he hops out of his stool, adjusting his tie and shrugging on his jacket. He's wearing his grey pant suit today, the slate a perfect match for his eyes. Around his neck is my favourite tie – my favourite silver tie – I know it is a conscious choice on his behalf, but I feel nothing. Those muscles are dormant and tired, unwillingly to stir and wake. He's got a lot of ass kissing to do if he wants them back.

"I have an early meeting." Christian mumbles, moving around my stool, his hand trailing the back of the chair but keeping its distance from making any contact with me.

"Okay."

Leaning in towards me I freeze gripping the cup between my fingers hard, concerned for a split second whether I have the strength to break it. He creeps closer to my ear, his breath warm against me and sending a small shiver down the curve of my spine.

"I am sorry. I love you so much."

Planting a light kiss on my cheek he leaves me, stalking off down the hall, his dress shoes clattering against the floors and fading to a tap as he exits.

I'm left in silence to finish my tea, Gail leaving to make a start on the upstairs rooms and wishing me a good day at work. All I can do is smile as she leaves and even that is a struggle.

It's going to be a long and tiring day.

* * *

"You have my schedule for today?" I ask Sawyer, taking his hand as I jump from the car.

"Yes, ma'am. I'll have the car ready for you."

"Thank you." I turn to grab my purse from across the car, it slipping from my mind when it came to stepping out, but Sawyer leans in first to get it for me. He hands it to me with a slight smile, warranting another 'thank you'.

"It's no problem ma'am."

Sawyer remains by my side until I reach my office, staying close beside me and offering a cold and harsh look to anyone making their way towards me. _Jeez, who knew it'd be so easy so as to walk from the reception door to my office without being harassed?_ I should get Sawyer to walk with me every single time if it means I can have just a few minutes more to myself!

"I'll be ready with the car when you need it ma'am. Just call me when you're ready to leave." He nods his head and leaves me alone, closing my office door behind him. I think he's sheepish with me after last night, probably scared of the pregnant, psycho standing in front of him.

I call Hannah from my desk asking her to fetch me some breakfast from the deli. I hate to rely on her, and ask her to do this seeing as it is nowhere in her job title to be my chief supplier of food and drink, but I need food. I'm so hungry that I'm starting to feel nauseous and I know I can only hold off for so long before I'll be retching with my head down a toilet. Thankfully she obliges, telling me that she's happy to help and will forward calls to Mark until she returns, sensing that I'm at odd this morning.

Taking a breath I open my emails, just a few lingering and waiting for my attention. I have a message from HR telling me that everything is taken care of regarding Danielle, she's officially no longer an employee at Grey Publishing Ltd., her ID card has been returned and her account closed down – this time we're covering our backs after leaving Hyde's account open.

The last email flashes like a beacon, arriving just a few minutes ago, his name flashing in blue and waiting for me to open it. I toy with the idea of just deleting it and pretending I haven't received anything but that's childish. I've tried my best to remain adult about this; his words from yesterday playing through my mind and forcing to me grow up. I expel the air from my lungs as I open it, bracing myself for the latest battle between Grey's.

* * *

**From: Christian Grey**

**Subject: I don't know what to do.**

**Date: 1st December 2011 09:09:24AM**

**To: Anastasia Grey**

Ana,

I have apologised, and I mean it when I tell you I am sorry, but I need to know what it is that you are angry and upset over.

I know I have done wrong and I have a lot of making up to do, but how am I to know what I am apologising for if you won't tell me?

I need to know so I can work through it. So we can work through this.

I cannot apologise enough, but if it makes the slightest difference I will scream it from the roof of Grey House every hour, on the hour.

I love you.

C

X

Christian Grey

CEO begging for help and guidance, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

* * *

**From: Anastasia Grey**

**Subject: What do you expect me to do…**

**Date: 1st December 2011 09:14:58AM**

**To: Christian Grey **

Send you the list outlining everything?

Are you really telling me that you are that obtuse that you have no idea, what so ever, as to why I am feeling this way?

Anastasia Grey

Editor, Grey Publishing Ltd.

* * *

I send my reply, leaving out any signing off memo. How would I sign it off – irate wife? Pissed off and ready to lash out? On the verge of breaking into a flood of tears?

* * *

**From: Christian Grey**

**Subject: I know I am testing your patience.**

**Date: 1st December 2011 09:16:43AM**

**To: Anastasia Grey**

There's a list?

I know you're angry but please, I need you to help me out on this one. Yes I am really that obtuse, to use your own words. I could stammer a guess but I have reason to believe that there is not just one single thing I have done that has upset you.

Please Ana.

C

X

Christian Grey

CEO on his hands and knees, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

* * *

**From: Anastasia Grey**

**Subject: THE LIST.**

**Date: 1st December 2011 09:38:01AM**

**To: Christian Grey**

Please note that this list is not exclusive.

I have labelled each point for ease of reference should you enquire further information or wish to discuss this.

1) The way you spoke to me yesterday was appalling. You belittled and talked down to me constantly. I understand and take responsibility that I should have ordered my words to you differently but this by no means warranted the language you used towards me. Please refrain for future notice that I will not be told to 'cut my f***ing attitude. The last time I checked I am not your child therefore giving me the rights to act and talk how I wish.

2) I was under the impression that I am carrying OUR child, or is he only ours while you are happy with me and I am behaving appropriately, according to your preferences and rules? Are you waiting for me to deliver our child and then get rid of me?

3) I accept responsibility for this issue at YOUR company, regarding Ms Wilkes and Ms Lincoln. I whole-heartedly accept that this was partly down to me, seeing as it was I who hired her and continued to keep her in employment with YOU and disregarded YOUR wishes. Although, can you not understand that I was oblivious to this? That I had no possible idea as to what was going on between Ms Wilkes and Ms Lincoln, let alone what sort of sordid and deceitful lies she was feeding YOUR employee. I gave evidence of this to YOUR security advisor, Jason Taylor, last night. I hope you've read these as they will support this and hopefully you will be on the same page that I am on.

4) Note that I have referred to this as your company. I am fully aware that this is your company and in your name – how could I not after your words yesterday? However, do you realise how misleading and upsetting this is after you have spent many months reminding me that this is my company to do with as I wish? More so that when I tried to gather information last night I was stopped by IT telling me that I had no authorisation – that only SENIOR management had the authority to do so, and was told everything had to go through you. Please can you clarify this for me? Am I senior management or just a seat warmer on your behalf while you swan off and run other businesses?

5) I was appalled and disgusted to find that instead of yourself coming to find me last night you sent your security team to harass me, and that you had allowed them to use force to remove me from the building and return me home. Does this not trigger something in your mind at all? Do you not realise how this must feel, to know that your husband has given three grown men the right to physically assault me? Not only is this disgusting for the fore mentioned reasons but more so because I am pregnant with your child. How would you feel if I was admitted to hospital, or if I lost your child because of this? The stress of this on its own is enough to cause this. I am not prepared to put the safety of MY child at risk.

6) I accept and apologise for my actions yesterday. I know it was wrong to leave without warning you and to go against your wishes for me not to drive but I how else am I supposed to regain what little control I had? You talk about your need for control, well I need it too. I know you were worried and this was not my intention. You refused to allow me to deal with this by myself, allowing me the room to grow and deal with the consequences of my actions. If this company is indeed mine, which I am not assuming anymore, how else am I supposed to learn if I am not allowed to make mistakes? Not everyone is perfect. Not everyone is like the great Christian Trevelyan Grey. Please do not expect me to be like you. You know what and who I was when you put this ring on my finger. Accept this or call it a day.

7) I have had enough of your control over my driving. I have understood your points, some of them even make sense but I need to drive. I need the freedom to be able to get behind the wheel of a car when necessary and not be scared of what you might say over it. Do you know that not driving for so long has left me scared of being in control? I was scared. I didn't know if I could do it and then you rang and started shouting at me – how else did you expect me to react? I needed support not ridicule.

8) I am your wife Christian. We are supposed to be equals in marriage – what's mine is yours – but we're not. Stop treating me like an employee, sub or child. I am none of these and the sooner you realise this, the better.

9) I know that this form of communication is immature and not ideal however this seems to be the most productive form. I have tried to talk to you but I have found that you are too quick to dismiss me, cutting me off and disregarding my opinions. I am human. I have my own thoughts and feelings that I need to release. You have told me several times in the past that I am not willing to communicate with you, but when I do I have no voice or standing. Can you not understand how frustrating this is? Do you not remember what it was like to be bossed around and have no control in your life? This is what you're doing to me.

10) My final point, why did you try to hold me earlier this morning when you returned home from wherever you were? In your mind did you really think I was just going to get over this?

Now, I have work to do. I'm sure your good self would not hesitate in coming down like a tonne of bricks on a slacking employee.

Yours,

Mrs Grey

Anastasia Grey

Editor, Grey Publishing Ltd.

* * *

I close down my emails, ready to ignore whatever response he comes back with and turn my attention to my work.

I hate to do this to him, I wish I could sit him down and talk to him the way we're meant to, but I can't. I can't be sure that he'll hear me out. I don't want to lose everything because of this but I fear there's no other choice. He's pushing me further away with each argument.

Reaching across my desk I grab the papers sprawled around the top. I need to reorganise them, everything in chaos and in an odd order after my attack last night. I take a glance at the carpet and notice that it is now glass free, Taylor sticking to his word that he would have someone clear it up for me. I owe that man a lot. I jaunt my eyes to my frames lying beside my computer. Taking them in my hands I check them, the glass now replaced and my frames whole again. It's as if nothing as happened, all evidence of last night gone and in the past - a secret between me and security.

If only everything else was so easy to fix.


	56. Chapter 56

**Disclaimer:The characters portrayed in this story are those in E L James's Fifty Shades Trilogy, therefore they remain her property. The plot and themes in this story are those of the author. The author is in no way affiliated with James. No copyright infringement intended.**

**MASSIVE apologies for the wait! I've started uni again this week, which needless to say has taken up a lot of my time. Rest assured that I'm still dedicating time to this, though expect a longer chapter every few days instead of one every other day. **

**Firstly, massive thank you to everyone reading, reviewing and following. I'm thrilled that you're enjoying it and look forward to reading your thoughts on the chapters to come.**

**Right, the next two chapters (this one and the next) were one LONG piece - hence why it's taken a while to write. However, I will be uploading the next piece either later today, or tomorrow - I am changing one section of it slightly, a new idea bursting to life in my mind this morning on the early bus to class! With this in mind note that this chapter does end on a wierd point - this is because I couldn't upload the whole document as one because it is too long.**

**You will NOT have to wait long for the next! May Christian go all fifty-shades on me if I do keep you waiting!**

**Much Love, and expect the next piece very soon! Enjoy! :) x**

* * *

Why can't we go back to those times?

Why can't we go back to my graduation day? It was the thrill of it all that made it extra special. The celestial flames of our budding affair springing to life was exhilarating, something neither of us expected. Even with the undercurrent of anxiety lingering around us, holding a part of us back from one another, it wasn't enough to spoil the moment. It was electrifying to be so close to him, knowing what had happened between us and what he had done to me – what I had done to him. It was our secret. Our first secret.

Why can't we go back to our wedding day? It really was the most special day of my life. It was perfect; everything was perfect down to the minute details. I loved every single second of that day, wishing for it to never end. I wanted to dance the night away, be held in the arms of my new husband and relish in the fact that it was our day. It was the only day where I have ever loved being the centre of attention.

But most of all, I want to go back to the day we went to our first sonogram together. I want to feel the way I did then – loved, cherished and part of a union. He held my hand and we supported each other when we were scared, knowing that there was a chance everything could go wrong. He comforted me when Dr Greene was carrying out her examination, to then cradle me when we saw him for the first time. He was no longer a Blip, but a baby. He was our baby. He is our baby.

Why does life hate us so much?

More to the point, if life doesn't hate us then who up there does? Someone has it in for us, making sure that we fail and fall apart. The saddest part of this whole shitty situation is that it could easily happen; with each argument we are closer and closer to falling apart and proving them all right – closer to proving bitch troll right.

I'm sick of this. I'm tired of having to wait it out until the next blow comes and hits us square on in the stomach. I'm tired of being pushed to my uppermost limits. I'm fed up of Christian pushing me away and showing Elena to be the voice of reason.

Maybe it is only a matter of time before he leaves me?

_Or you leave him?_

I hug my frames close to me for a second longer. I'm not giving up just yet. Maybe that phrase about the first year of marriage being the hardest is true. Surely if that's the case it will get easier? It has to, right?

With one last squeeze I let them go, sliding them back onto my desk and placing them into their usual position beside my computer. I order them in the same way they have always sat: in the chronological order of events – the chronological order of our life together. I bring Blip closer to me this time, his frame taking precedence. He's the only connection between us right now – the only thing pulling us towards each other instead of dragging us apart, kicking and screaming. He will be the only thing keeping us together until we have talked through this and reached a consensus. I really need Christian to meet me on this one. I've always been willing, and have often suggested a compromise, but this time halfway is not an option. I am not compromising on this; I haven't got the energy to even deal with half of this shit anymore. I can cope with Elena, I've come to realise that no matter how much I try to block her out she's like a bad smell, always lingering and revolting you when you least expect or want it. But I can't cope with Christian treating me this way, it's not fair. I know some of it is warranted, heck everyone argues, but not to this extent. I'm tired and exhausted.

I have no energy whatsoever. I feel like I'm losing myself a little more as each minute draws by, the hands slowly ticking away and counting down until something happens. I can feel someone pulling the plug on my life support – the reason I'm breathing and going through all of this. I know it's only a matter of time before my body gives up, screams out that enough is enough and closes the drapes for good, hanging a 'Nobody's home' sign around my neck and throwing in the towel. I'm working so hard to prevent all of this from happening, but it's ten times more difficult when the person pulling the plug is the centre of my universe.

A light tapping on my door draws me away from my thoughts, aversely dragging me back to the present. I sit back in my chair, turning my attention away from my healed frames and beckon whoever is there to come on in. My voice is a little raspy and broken, needing a cough to clear and make my words audible. My throat is dry and scratchy, either a result of dehydration, stress or the outbreak of a cold. I hope to God I'm not getting sick! Getting sick is a bummer not matter what, but now more than ever. Ninety-nine per cent of my energy is given solely to Blip and his development, if I get sick I'll have nothing left in order to recover – Christian claiming that last one per cent.

How would Blip cope if I got ill? Would he suffer as well?

"I come bearing breakfast and tea! Both are steaming hot and look delicious."

I grin from ear to ear as Hannah waltzes into my room, carrying in one hand a purple mug, flooding my room with Twinings finest blend with the steam seeping out from the top as she holds it by the handle. In her other hand is a plain black wrapper. I know instinctively it's from the new diner that has just opened down the block from here. I've been meaning to try out the place since hearing about its opening, that and from seeing every employee I have stalking in with these conspicuous black wrappers. The smell is exactly how she described it: delicious. My mouth is watering already, the insides unknown but the smell alone tells me I will love it. My usually heightened sense of smell is failing me, unable to distinguish what this particular scent is. The blend of aromas filling my office is sending my insides into a tingling frenzy, my brain shutting down and focusing solely on my need for whatever is inside. I can feel that Blip is thrilled, his gymnastics routine fluttering deep inside me.

_Okay baby, Mommy is listening to you! Food is on its way._

"Oh my God, Hannah you are a life saver!" I squeal as I push out of my chair, meeting her across the table to take my much longed for sustenance.

"I wouldn't go that far, it's just breakfast. It was no hassle."

I almost snatch them from her, wanting to greedily take them in my arms and hide away in the corner as I devour them, but I stop myself seeing the steam. It wouldn't be a good idea to spill the tea all over me, or both of us for that matter. A trip to the emergency room really would be the cherry on top! Instead I take them graciously, returning back to the safety of my chair and setting them down on my desk. I wipe the corner of my mouth with the sleeve of my cardigan, concerned that I might be drooling as I eye the deliciousness in front of me.

_Jeez, this is like heaven in a greaseproof wrapper._

"Hannah, when baby Grey places the call telling you he's hungry, you have minutes to arrange everything!" A giggle escapes as I rub my hand across my stomach, pulling my cardigan to a close around my chest. "This has probably saved me a lot of hassle and hate from my little invader."

_Yes, you are too much like your Daddy aren't you? _How am I going to cope with two people throwing a Christian bitch fit?

"I'll take your word for it."

Unable to hold off any longer I rip into the wrapper, finally discovering the culprit behind the heaven teasing me and my senses. Underneath the paper hides a perfectly scorching bagel, the middle filled with fresh, hot and crispy bacon.

"Oh, my goodness!" I exclaim, pressing my hand to my heart.

_Why are you welling up over a bagel?_

"Did I get it right?" She asks, shrugging out of her navy and cream jacket before shaking her long hair out of the tie holding it together, allowing it to fall loose around her shoulders.

"You are an absolute angel." I spurt out through my first mouthful, the contents tickling my taste buds and instantly calming my Olympic gymnast. "Be sure to take an extra half hour lunch, okay?"

"Ana –"

Shaking her head she makes to object, smiling at me and holding her jacket close to her chest. I offer her my most insistent look, one that I have developed and somewhat perfected over the last couple of months.

"Hannah, you can and you will. You deserve it. It would have been easy for you to say no and tell me to get my own food, but you didn't. We are both very grateful." I tilt my head and eyes to my stomach, a subconscious thing that I do whenever I refer to him. I guess I do it to avoid the 'but there are only two of us here?' sort of glance I tend to receive.

"It really was no trouble at all." Grabbing the files in my outgoing tray she makes to leave, flashing her pearly whites before taking to the doorway. "Are you sure about lunch?"

"Yes! And you can tell Mark to pull his weight and cover you while you're gone." I smile, settling my bagel back onto the wrapper and bringing a tissue to mouth, to wipe away any excess before I can take to my mug.

Leaving and pulling my door to close behind her she grins, thankful for my generous offering. Well, at least I've made someone happy today! Somehow I think she will be the first and last!

I'm slightly envious of Hannah; she's the fashion forward type – the bottom drawer of her desk filled with the type of glossy magazines Kate and Mia would read, her wardrobe reflecting this and the seasonal change bringing the cooler air to Seattle. Her usual maxi-dresses, sleeveless blouses and skirts with bare legs have been traded in for pants, jackets, sleeves and skirts with tights. Even with the help of Caroline Acton and Mia I'm still resistant, more than happy to trudge into work in my sweats or jeans and a t-shirt if it was deemed acceptable and appropriate to do so. The idea of having my big, fluffy bath robe on hand and stashed into the drawer of my desk is very appealing. I wonder if I could get someone to fetch it for me, or would that be pushing it a little?

Well, for now I'm left to settle for my over-sized maroon cardigan – the sleeves are far too long even though I have turned them up twice, and the hem sits mid-thigh. I threw it on this morning over my white frill blouse, teamed on top of my grey slim-leg slacks. I chose my outfit before I knew what Christian was wearing, the co-ordination between us a complete accident. Normally I'd have slipped into my favourite works dress – my knee length shift in navy blue – but I needed something I could easily take on and off by myself, without needing Kate to help me undress every time I find something I deem worthy of attempting to squeeze in to. I know she will be busy herself trying to find something - something that will send Elliot into despair and will make every woman in the room just that little bit more envious of her than they normally are. She's the model type, who wouldn't be envious of her? She's perfect with her silky blonde hair, clear blue eyes and the ability to wear a trash bag and still look sexy. _Me?_ I'm just a plain Jane through and through with dull brown hair, scary big blues too large for my own head and a figure that no one would be envious of.

_Well you are packing on the pounds!_

Shaking her away I pull myself together. _Come on Ana, time to rock this office!_

I have just a few hours before I need to think about leaving. I've already made plans to leave a little earlier than normal in order to meet with Kate, but I still have a fair chunk of paperwork piling up on my desk. The first thing on the never-ending agenda of Mr Grey's seat warmer is an email to the author I'm meeting with on Monday. I need to confirm with her my attendance to the meeting and check the times once more, to ensure that we are both on the same page. As strange as it is I am looking forward to heading back to Portland. It'll be nice to see some familiar faces and to get away from this, even if it is just for a few hours. Some me time would be amazing, just a little time to breathe some fresh air and gain perspective.

Maybe I can fit in some time to see Ray? I miss him so much, the last time we saw each other being just before he left, to head home after he got the all clear from the doctors – his "bitchin'" cast off and giving him his freedom again. I've never seen him smile so much! He was happy to head home, but I was less than enthusiastic. I loved having him here with me, even if the circumstances that lead to it were horrible. We were both suffering, beaten up and bruised, but neither of us wanted to show it – the Steele in us coming out.

Ray hasn't seen me at all since we told him I'm pregnant. He has his picture of Blip and his gift, Christian sending Ryan down there to give them to him, but he hasn't me in person or Blip for that matter. I can't wait to see the look on his face when he sees how fat I am now. I have no doubts in my mind that he will revert back to Daddy mode and bring on the 'you're still my baby, Annie bear' lecture I've been expecting all along.

I finish tapping out the email to Butler, a response coming back immediately telling me that she's received it and will get back to me in due course. Just below it lingers the repercussions of my list. A new email from Christian is highlighted above the last one I received from him, the response to my telling him everything I am feeling and what I feel he has done wrong.

* * *

**From: Christian Grey**

**Subject: Your list…**

**Date: 1st December 2011 09:57:09AM**

**To: Anastasia Grey**

… Has brought a lot to my attention.

I had no idea.

Can we please meet for lunch this afternoon?

I need to see you as I feel that this is something we need to discuss in person. I do not feel comfortable trying to resolve this without having your beautiful face in front of me as I apologise once again.

Please?

C

X

Christian Grey

CEO who needs a kick in the face for being so stupid, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

* * *

Meet for lunch?

Has he forgotten already? I only told him yesterday morning about my plans with Kate!

_Can you blame the guy for forgetting? A lot's happened since then…_

* * *

**From: Anastasia Grey**

**Subject: Unavailable**

**Date: 1st December 2011 10:00:21AM**

**To: Christian Grey**

Somehow the fact that you had no idea doesn't shock me one iota. You'd have to be pretty damn intuitive, or psychic for that matter, to know what's going on inside my mind right now.

I agree that we can only begin to resolve this in person but I can't meet during today. I have plans this lunch time.

Anastasia Grey

Editor, Grey Publishing Ltd.

* * *

**From: Christian Grey**

**Subject: Rearrange a few things, maybe?**

**Date: 1st December 2011 10:03:58AM**

**To: Anastasia Grey**

Is there not any chance that you can cancel or reschedule your plans?

Can I ask what plans you have made? I have no recollection of this.

C

X

Christian Grey

CEO looking for a compromise, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

* * *

**From: Anastasia Grey**

**Subject: Nope.**

**Date: 1st December 2011 10:05:32AM**

**To: Christian Grey**

Not that it is or should be any of your concern, but I'm meeting with Kate. We are both heading out to find a dress to wear for tomorrow evening.

Are you going to allow me to do this or will you call Kate and cancel on my behalf without asking, or telling me first?

Anastasia Grey

Editor, Grey Publishing Ltd.

* * *

**From: Christian Grey**

**Subject: Holding hands up in surrender.**

**Date: 1st December 2011 10:10:01AM**

**To: Anastasia Grey**

It was none of my business but curiosity got the better of me. Please accept my gratitude in telling me once again, you didn't need to. I should have remembered. I'm sorry.

I have a business dinner with my father this evening. You are more than welcome to join us. In fact I would like it if you did.

I need to meet with you, sooner rather than later. I hate this.

C

X

Christian Grey

I'm trying, CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

* * *

**From: Anastasia Grey**

**Subject: Taking the other option.**

**Date: 1st December 2011 10:12:48AM**

**To: Christian Grey**

I think it would be better if you stuck to your original plans – to have dinner with your father on your own.

I am sure that you will both be discussing things that do not concern or interest me. I would only get in the way.

You never spend any time with him as it is. It would be good for you both to spend time alone, even if it is to discuss business.

Ana

Anastasia Grey

Editor, Grey Publishing Ltd.

* * *

Or maybe to give me some more time to prepare for all of this?

* * *

**From: Christian Grey**

**Subject: Still not enough.**

**Date: 1st December 2011 10:14:59AM**

**To: Anastasia Grey**

I want to resolve this.

We need to resolve this.

C

X

CEO on his hands and knees, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

* * *

**From: Anastasia Grey**

**Subject: You should be on your knees!**

**Date: 1st December 2011 10:16:45AM**

**To: Christian Grey**

Though, you may get friction burns or crease your pants.

Our problems will still be here until we do resolve this, whether it is tonight or tomorrow. The 'when' in this is just a minor detail.

I want to work through this just as much as you do.

Ana

Anastasia Grey

Editor, Grey Publishing Ltd.

* * *

**From: Christian Grey**

**Subject: That's settling to read.**

**Date: 1st December 2011 10:20:39AM**

**To: Anastasia Grey**

Knowing that we both want this is reassuring. For a second I almost thought you were ready to throw the towel in.

I know I am an ass, I throw my hands up and openly admit it, but I'll do anything to save us. You know I will, or at least I hope you do.

I hope you and Kate have an enjoyable afternoon, and that you find something you like.

I cannot be sure what time I will be arriving home, though I hope I will be back in time for us to discuss this a little. In either case I will move into the guest bedroom for tonight. I do not like that I am the cause for you not sleeping. You need your sleep Ana. You and Blip both need sleep.

I love you.

C

X

CEO wishing he was a better man, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

* * *

_You are a better man. You are better than this. I just wish I knew what going on inside your head. I wish I knew why this has happened._

Slumping forward I collapse onto my desk, my head naturally finding its way to my forearms and burrowing into my knitwear. I feel like my head is about to explode.

I want this over. I want my life back. I just want be to…

_Happy._

* * *

"ANA!"

I'm hit like a freight train; the freight train of my overly enthused sister-in-law pounding over to me and throwing her arms open to take me. I comply, allowing her to swallow me up in her barrage, staring out over her shoulder to mouth my probing to Kate.

"What's Mia doing here?" I enquire, narrowing my eyes in confusion.

_Did I invite Mia and not realise?_

Sauntering over towards us Kate throws her arms up in the air, spinning on the spot and gesturing to the room. She sums it up in just one word: shopping.

Pushing out of Mia's hold I force a smile across my face. It's not that I'm not happy to see her, I love her, but Mia and shopping are two words that should never cross paths. She's like a hurricane, tearing through the store and barking orders at staff until she finds exactly what she wants. I recall my one, and only, singular outing with her just before the wedding. Mia took over everything I had little time or interest for. She took me out to a jeweller for my approval on napkin rings – something that I never would have thought of in a million years! I mean, what's wrong with just folding them? I insisted that I didn't really care, that I trusted her opinion in hopes that I wouldn't need to be there but, once again, Miss Grey was triumphant. We ended up spending the best apart of three hours going through lists upon lists of designs, eventually settling on platinum napkin rings with a personalised, delicate engraving with our names. I think in the end I just said yes to the first one on the page, wanting to tear my own hair out.

"Mia." I fain my happiness at seeing her but my voice gives me away, hitching up a few octaves higher than usual. "I didn't realise you were coming. I thought you had a dress already?"

"I did… but when I heard that you two were coming out I thought I'd tag along. You know I can't resist a shopping trip! And when I told Mom, she told Elliot, he told Christian and he… gave me this!"

Squealing loudly and childlike, almost to the point where only dogs would be able to hear her, she pulls out a silver card from her pocket. It's a blur as she waves it past me, the light reflecting off it and shining directly in my eyes. I grab it in an attempt to see exactly what it is, his name embossed clearly at the bottom.

MR CHRISTIAN TREVELYAN GREY.

"He gave you his credit card?!"

"I know, right? I was dumbfounded as well but he just handed it over." Prising it from my hand she takes it back maybe concerned that I might keep hold of it, and quash the ideas fleeting through her mind. It is my account as well, after all.

"Just like that? He didn't give you any reasons?" I quiz her, shocked and freaked out by this very un-Christian like gesture.

_He really trusts Mia with his credit card?_ _We could end up completely wiped out in a matter of minutes!_

"He told me to have a good time and that maybe I should have a look for a new dress, one I like more. I have his permission to buy a new dress, shoes and purse if I want."

"Did he give you any instructions?" I pause trying to choose the right words. "You know, any… limits?"

Shoving the card back into her purse, a pink clutch, she crosses both arms across her chest. "You mean how much am I allowed to spend?"

I nod my head, thankful that she said the words first. The wrath of Mia Grey is almost on par with Christian!

"Ah, he hinted that I should stick to a ten thousand mark, but who really knows what that means?"

"Oh, I'm pretty sure he'll be going through his bank statement with a fine tooth comb!" Kate snorts, mimicking Mia and crossing her arms around her.

"But he did tell me to cover the bill for all of our outfits…"

Instantly both of their eyes widen and glisten, the dollar signs ringing a thousand times over.

"Shit, he must be having a good day! Ana, what have you done to put him in such a good mood?"

I turn my attention to Kate. She's moved to my side, nudging me with her elbow and winking furiously. I know what she's insinuating but I'm not even going there. I'm not even going to open my mouth. I don't care if she goes all Chinese water torture on my ass, Kate Kavanagh is getting no information out of me! I've learnt my lesson from discussing my private marital affairs with someone other than Christian. I guess if I can't talk to him I'm expected to keep it myself? It would sure as hell make a change for me to keep things from him!

"Ew, can you not mention my big brother and sex in the same conversation please?" Mia shudders, her shoulders quivering as if someone has tickled her spine with cold hands.

"Seriously? How do you think Ana got knocked up? It definitely wasn't a miraculous conception!"

"But still, there are some things I would rather not hear!" Mia starts moving, heading off in the direction of a lone salesperson that has caught her eye. I can see her brain switching into hardcore shopper mode. I swear if she wasn't rich already she would be one of those coupon Queens!

"It's not like I'm going into gory deets! I mean, not even I want to relive some of the sounds I heard coming out of your room when you were –"

Jumping to her side I shove my hand over her mouth, startling and instantly silencing her. "God, you're just as bad as Elliot!"

"It rubs off on you after a while." She retorts, pushing my hand away and taking it in hers. "I'm glad you're here."

"Me too, even if I am dreading this."

"You'll find something." Assuring me she rubs my hand in between hers as we stroll behind Mia at a leisurely pace.

"I hope so, otherwise I'm not going."

"To hell you aren't! Now, stop moaning and start looking for someone to help us!"

* * *

_Ugh._

Every inch of my body aches. My feet are throbbing from standing and walking around for hours on end. My back kills from bending over umpteen times, and my head – well, that's been throbbing and pulsating since yesterday. I need to get those pills off Taylor! They seemed to subside the pain for a little while, but the fact that his ex-wife thought they were great is reason enough to give them a second try.

I've tried on far too many dresses – at least ten, though it feels like a thousand plus!

I was left to my own devices to find something, which is never the ideal approach to these sorts of things. I prefer to have someone pick it out for me, give me some options so I can make the final decision based on which one I feel more comfy in. After a short while of struggling I was actually grateful to see Mia storming over to my side. She found her new dress in no time at all. Her first choice, the original dress, was an off-white floor length ball gown – all shiny, princess like and very Mia. To say I was shocked by her choice of new dress is an understatement! This dress is something else: it's still floor-length, suitable for the evening affair, but it's a flaming red satin with a knee length split down both sides. Her legs peek out seductively and offer a new shade to Miss Grey, something I know both Carrick and Christian will hate! I mean, she's twenty-two for Pete's sake, if she likes it then she should be allowed to wear it! I know Ethan will approve!

With Mia finding her dress so quickly she was able to turn her attention to helping me, Kate wandering off in the direction of colours she prefers and rejecting Mia's lecture on which ones we should stick to so as to avoid a clash with her, or each other. She insisted that I should stick to pastels, or a chocolate if needs be, telling Kate to avoid reds, pinks or oranges. Kate shrugged her off, telling her that she'll chose whatever damn dress she wants and to be honest I'm glad she did, she looks stunning in her choice.

I sat in with her as she tried it on, taking a break from my own battle with finding something. As soon as she slipped it on and pulled the straps over her shoulders we both knew it was the one for her. It's a mermaid dress in every sense of the word. The delicate straps are braided fabric, concentrating down the side of her dress and pulling her figure together, exaggerating her already envious curves. Her chest in particular is pulled in tight, the sweetheart bust subtle and understated, yet adding the sex appeal to her ensemble – her main and only request. The bottom of the extravaganza fans out at her knees, the material around the end slightly different to the silk mesh of the top. But overall the most exquisite feature is the colour; it's something else, nothing like any colour I have ever seen her in. Its teal, matching the darkest depths of the ocean – in turn a perfect match for her eyes and fitting her skin tone and hair colour down to a tee. I started to well up watching her twirl in the mirror, admiring the dress in its entirety for herself.

Jeez, I'm like this with just an ordinary benefit gown? What the fuck am I going to be like when I see her wedding dress?!

With Kate now fully equipped and sorted the limelight was shone down on me, sitting there on a chaise having a meltdown. I didn't think we would ever find a dress. I was more than certain that I would be left with some shapeless sack, with a hefty price tag that made me feel even worse than I already do. I groaned and whinged as Mia threw unrealistic and suitable options at me, some of them the ugliest dresses I have ever set eyes upon. I watched as Kate and Mia bickered over what colour I should wear, neither of them taking the advice of the store assistant. I was less than enthused toward our 'helper'. She's some girl called Becky – straight out of school, her nose stuck up in the air and offering a judgemental glance to me for being young, married and pregnant. I didn't care what she thought, shrugging it off and pointing out that she knew nothing about me – apart from something she might have seen in magazines – but Kate on the other hand came down on her like a tonne of bricks! I held her back as much as I could, trying to save the girl from years' worth of expensive therapy but she still ran away crying. Needless to say her wailing prompted everyone in the store to stare at us, Caroline Acton taking over our care and rushing to our aide. For the first time someone asked me what I wanted, but how was I supposed to answer it? I know nothing about shapes, lengths or cuts. My answer to her – I just want to look feminine, pretty and less fat.

Boy did the girl do good!

Standing in front of the mirror cascading down the length of the wall I admire my dress. I feel amazing. I know my hair and makeup are nothing to what it will look like tomorrow evening, hoping that I can get Mia and Kate to help me out with it, but I still feel great. My dress is a strapless gown, the bust similar to Kate's but needing a slightly bigger size to add more support – my breasts are a tad heavy for this style of dress. Thankfully the only adjustment is a new waist tie, sitting just below my chest and pulling my waist in, emphasising my bump. The band around the middle is a dark purple, contrasting with the gradual colour fade of the dress. The top starts off as a dark aubergine for the ruched fabric, morphing to a plum, then violet, lilac and then almost hitting white at the hem. The top layer of mesh adds a little volume, the column slip underneath carrying the beautiful colours. Even Blip looks amazing, only visible from a side profile and even then he's delicate, not a lump of fat. The only thing I hate is the price; I refuse to look at it. The price doesn't concern me at all, I couldn't care less if it costs $50 or a million – I feel great and that's the main thing.

Under my dress hides my new heels, Kate's choice. I feel weird about having someone other than Christian choosing my shoes. This is his job; he always buys my shoes. Don't get me wrong, I love Kate's choice! She's chosen an amazing pair in silver, matching the purse Mia brought over to me. Both of them knew instinctively which designer to hit for my footwear, both of them having studied the mass I have collected at home.

After four and a half hours of shopping, dread and exhaustion I am finally equipped for tomorrow evening.

I'm well and truly spent, in more ways than one! I tried my damned best to avoid looking, or knowing the overall price for all three outfits combined but my hopes were short-lived.

"I'm afraid this card is linked to Mr Christian Grey."

Staring blank faced at the clerk I'm in disbelief. She's stopping us using his card? It's never happened before?

"And?" Kate snaps, slamming her purse against the counter in frustration.

"My point being that Miss Grey doesn't have authorisation to use this card here. The account is open to Mr or Mrs Grey only."

"That's her!" Pointing enthusiastically over to me Mia draws the clerk's eyes to me, standing behind them both with a face like a smacked behind wanting nothing more than to sit down with a burger.

"Mrs Grey?"

"Uh-huh." I mumble, parting my way through Kate and Mia to reach the desk.

"Mrs Anastasia Grey?" Flickering her eyes between me and the computer she questions me. Not another person who thinks Christian and I are an odd match?!

"Do you want ID?" I grumble.

"No, it's fine." Sliding the card into the reader she hands the receipt over to me to sign it. "The total is $29,110.90."

_What?!_

I stumble on my toes, Kate reaching out to support me knowing I'm in pure shock. How the hell can three lots of dresses, shoes and purses total that much?

Obliging I sign the receipt, pushing it back across the desk and into the hands of the clerk, returning Christian's card to me. Turning away I beckon Sawyer from across the room to carry out our things, catching Mia in the corner of my eye grinning from ear to ear.

"What? I stuck to my budget!"

I just shake my head to here, gliding past and heading off towards the exit.

Sawyer has drafted in both Ryan and Reynolds for this outing having seen Mia storming into the building and throwing a curve ball into the mix. I have had little to do with Reynolds, just knowing that he usually teams up with Taylor and sticking to Christian's side like glue when needed. As always all three are wearing the typical black suits, white shirt and matching black tie, their shoes immaculately buffed and gleaming. Sometimes I wish I could have security that look normal! Maybe I'd feel different about them if they did? I constantly feel that people are staring at me for being followed around by men in sharp suits, especially when more times than not I'm looking awful beyond compare! Of course people stare for other reasons, namely that I've been splashed across the covers of various magazines since our engagement hit the headlines.

Maybe some female security personnel would be better? Hell, I need some female company around here, especially for when Blip arrives. I know it'll be a nightmare living through a real-life re-enactment of three men and a baby!

Loading our bags into the cars we say our goodbyes to Mia, Reynolds in charge of escorting her home. Sawyer and Ryan are naturally my chauffeurs, leaving Kate to her Mercedes and gratefully avoiding the harsh looking clones taking control over her as well. If anyone hates losing control more than Christian it's Kate!

"So, how's the job search going?" I press Kate when Mia and Reynolds finally leave. I've waited until Mia left to bring this up, not knowing if she's aware of the situation.

I've felt guilty ever since hearing that she lost her job, the reason being Elena trying to ruin Christian.

"There's not a lot going around lately. I applied for a position yesterday but I got a call this morning saying it was already gone."

"Kate, you know we're so sorry what happened, don't you?"

"Of course I do! Oh my God, Ana, come here!" Throwing her arms around me she holds me tight against her, rubbing my back in circles. "It wasn't your fault. Or Christian's! That fucking whore decided to play dirty and that fucking prick of a boss can stick his job where the sun certainly doesn't shine!"

I chuckle against her chest, pushing away only when the pressure from her hold places too much strain on my stomach, making me and Blip uncomfortable.

"Something will come up. And if it doesn't, then maybe I'll take Christian up on his offer?"

"Offer? What offer?"

"He didn't tell you? Christian offered me a job at Grey Enterprises, as a public relations consultant."

My inability to communicate ushers Kate to fill the gaps.

"I turned him down though, temporarily. I mean, we don't see eye to eye a lot of the time, and after thanksgiving the air is still a little frosty. I asked him if I could have more time to think about it and he told me it's fine. He said that if nothing else comes up I'll always have a position at GEH."

All I am able to utter is a mumbled concoction of 'wow' and 'oh my God' mashed together.

"I know. I was pretty shocked too. But I can't see me working with him."

_Well, she'd certainly fit in there. Another blonde to add to the Grey Empire!_

"Well, how about me?" I question, holding onto Kate's car door as she prepares to head off. I hold my hand up to Sawyer to tell him five minutes.

"What?"

"What about working with me? There's a position available, recently opened. I could use someone to fill the vacancy ASAP."

"You're serious?" Climbing back out of the car Kate wriggles to her feet. "You're serious?"

"Deadly. It's an assistant editor's role. You'd be pressing manuscripts, liaising with authors and –"

"Say no more! I'll take it!" Shrieking she lunges for me over the car door, pulling me into her and shaking me. "I don't know what to say!"

"Normally thank you is enough. It doesn't have to be a permanent thing if you don't want it to be. I know you have your heart set on journalism, but you can look for other work while still earning an income."

"I love you so much, Anastasia Rose Steele." Squeezing me tight she finally loosens her hold, kissing me loudly on my forehead before correcting herself. "Grey."

"You're welcome." I beam back to her, making her the second person I've cheered up today.

"So, what kind of benefits do I get?" Smirking Kate gets to the finer details, always the one to strike the iron while it's still hot.

"You know the score. Medical –"

"No, I mean what special best friend benefits do I get?" With her grin rising higher I can tell were this is going, Kate adding humour to this otherwise serious moment.

"Erm, you can have first pick of any muffin baskets I get?"

"You get muffin baskets?"

"Some from authors but usually employees, they send them to get into my good books, waver a raise or congratulate me on being knocked up." I shrug.

Jeez, the day after announcing our news to my office Hannah called me up informing me that I had a rather superfluous collection of muffin baskets – twenty-four in total.

"Shit, it really sucks to be you, doesn't it?"

"Sure does."

* * *

Sliding in between the sheets I curl up into my duvet after finishing up one of Gail's finest Spaghetti dishes. I didn't realise how hungry I was until I came home, hitting the wall of ecstasy filtering out from the kitchen. I devoured it in no time at all, Gail staying with me and eating her own dinner so as not to leave me alone – Taylor gave away that Christian was out with his father, leaving me behind. I'm grateful she stayed with me; I don't really don't like eating on my own.

My bed is warm and the linen fresh, soft and sweet-smelling. I can feel my eyelids growing heavier by the second but I force myself to stay awake, needing to contact Mia. It completely escaped my mind that I needed to ask her who her stylist is. I'm in desperate need of getting my hair done, preferably before tomorrow's benefit if I can. I'd go as far to pay an extortionate amount of cash in order to get it sorted, this mess on top of my head longer than I want with no shape or flair.

*HI MIA. FORGET TO ASK YOU BUT I NEED A NEW HAIRSTYLIST, ANY CHANCE YOU CAN GIVE ME THE DETAILS OF YOURS? YOU'VE HAD THE SAME ONE FOR YEARS, RIGHT? A X*

I'm grateful to receive a reply instantly, the worry that I may have disturbed her easing slightly. It's only 11:23PM but she still could have been asleep!

*HEY! YEAH I USED TO. I USED TO HAVE A GUY CALLED FRANCO DO MY HAIR, BUT HE WORKS WITH ELENA SO I DROPPED HIM. M X*

*OH, YEAH I WENT TO HIM BEFORE. NO NEED TO SAY WHY I'VE STOPPED GOING TO HIM! HAVE YOU FOUND A NEW STYLIST? A X*

*YH, TOOK A WHILE THOUGH! HOW HARD IS IT TO GET LESS L.A TRAMP AND MORE EUROPEAN? HE'S CALLED JET. YOU NEED YOUR HAIR DOING? M X*

*URGENTLY! I'D LIKE TO GET IT DONE BEFORE THE BENEFIT IF POSSIBLE. A X*

*COME ROUND TOMORROW AFTERNOON. HE'S COMING OVER TO DO MINE, HE CAN DO YOURS THEN. GTG, TIME TO SHOW MOM MY DRESS :-) M X*

"I'd love to see her face when she sees it!" I whisper, closing Mia's text.

Thank God I'm getting my hair done at last!

A feeling of both gratefulness and sadness washes over me as I curl around Christian's pillow, knowing that he's not here. A part of me was looking forward to having him home, finally being able to make a start towards resolving all of this, but the other is thankful for some more time to process what's going on in my own head.

I have no idea where my emotions are right now. I feel at odds with myself – one side with every emotion heightened and on tender hooks, the other like a zombie of myself or who I should be. I could easily scream at the top of my lungs, or burst into tears in a heartbeat for no reason at all, just as I could easily sit here blasé and shrugging it off.

Christian has a way of sending me stir crazy in a flash, making me feel a range of emotions and turning me into his, already self-proclaimed, fifty shades of fucked up. Sometimes I have to think hard about whether he knows he's doing this, or whether he is completely oblivious to his own power.

I certainly have a greater respect for Leila now. He really does have the ability to send someone crazy!

Rolling over, throwing my phone to the end of the bed I whisper a goodnight to Blip, and a goodnight to Christian. I know he's not here but he might hear it, wherever he is.


	57. Chapter 57

**Disclaimer:The characters portrayed in this story are those in E L James's Fifty Shades Trilogy, therefore they remain her property. The plot and themes in this story are those of the author. The author is in no way affiliated with James. No copyright infringement intended.**

**VERY VERY LONG CHAPTER! ****Dedicating this one to _FiftyShadesofCatt_ - You're a star! Your support and kindness is something else! I really cannot thank you enough! :) x**

**_To 'guest' no.1_ - yes, it was a long chapter but I did warn you all before hand, but apologies if any of you thought it was too long of an update, or you feel this one is too long as well! It's a shame you thought there was no action, hopefully your opinion will differ with this chapter? If not, thanks anyway! :) ****_To 'guest' no.2_ - thank you! I'm glad you're enjoying it! No I'm not studying creative writing - just plain old English, but focusing my attention on Literature :) **

**Future chapters will be longer than the ones I have written previously, in the early days of this story, however not this extent! ****Anyway, I'll let you get on and finish reading this "chapter". Looking forward to hearing from you all and reading your thoughts. ****More soon! ****Much Love ****x**

* * *

_Come on! Jesus, how long is this going to take! _

I wriggle on my stool, unable to sit still with both legs shaking incessantly from impatience. I'm shaking uncontrollably all over, enough to lead anyone to believe that I'm dying from hypothermia or I've just spent the past hour sitting on an ice block in just my panties but the truth is, is that I'm just nervous. I'm nervous knowing that with each tick of the clock I'm growing later for the benefit downstairs.

I fidget, shifting frequently to check the large antique clock on the wall ahead of me and counting the minutes rolling by. I watch as it ticks – the seconds turning into minutes, and quickly totalling three hours and forty-seven minutes all in all. I guessed we would be late, but never in my wildest dreams did I imagine it would be to this extent!

It's partly my fault. I was late coming over to Bellevue this afternoon having roused from my tireless sleep later than planned, and then unable to engage in any task I tried to put my hand to. I thought I had set the alarm to come on at half six, but when I woke at 10:21AM I was stunned and lead to believe that I either dreamt that I had turned it on in the first place, or that I must have reached across and switched it off during the night. While these are the likely probabilities a side of me thinks that there could be a chance Christian came in and turned it off for me. It's a long shot but still a possibility. He knew I had had little rest the night before, and expressed his concern over me not resting to the extent of volunteering to sleep in another room. A warm, tingling sensation reeks through me at the thought of this – my favourite, and currently the only side of Fifty I like coming into play. I wouldn't have objected to having him beside me, but I'm grateful he wasn't as I know the urge to watch him all night would have been too much for me to resist.

_You probably switched it off yourself, get over it_. I shake her off, fed up beyond compare with her input of late. I don't know what's worse – dealing with my own confusing thoughts or her nagging voice in the back of my mind. _I'm part of you! Get a grip!_

"Will you please sit still?" Mia huffs. Yanking my head back she tries to add yet more blush to my cheeks, my cheeks already heavy under a shitload of cover.

"Mia, we're already so late! Don't I have enough on yet?" I whine, tugging my head to the side to check the time again but she tightens her hold, quickly snapping my head back.

"You want to look nice, don't you? Besides, I'm almost done."

I whinge, my legs shaking faster and harder as I try to be patient, under the impression she'll finish soon, allowing her to continue without fuss but on the inside I'm screaming at her to hurry the fuck up! It's been me and her up here alone for a long time, Kate joining us for a minute before to tell us that guests had started to arrive and the first serving of Champagne was making the rounds. The only thing I asked her was if Christian had arrived, relieved when she nodded her head and told me he was waiting downstairs for me.

I haven't seen him since yesterday morning.

All day I have been anxiously twiddling my thumbs and counting down until I see him again. When I woke this morning the first thing I did was type out an email to him, letting him know my plans to come over here early so I could get ready with Mia. I told him that I planned on being awake for when he was, so that we could hopefully make a start towards patching things up and that something along the way obviously went awry. I felt the nausea build-up in my stomach as I sat on the edge of the bed waiting for his reply, the sickness dissipating when I read that he was fine with it, that he knew I was overtired and that he doesn't object to me having a lie-in. His email ended with his note telling me he'd meet me here, that he'd come straight over from the office, my assumption being that he will have taken his tux to work.

I groan as Mia tries to add another layer of mascara to my lashes already bulging from the weight.

"It will only take longer if you don't sit still!" Forcing my face up she stares me in the eyes, a smile stretched across her lips. "I know you want to see him, but it'll take just a little longer."

"Sorry." I whisper, closing my eyes and taking a calming breath, releasing it slowly through my mouth.

Feeling my BlackBerry buzz on my lap I try to fish it out from my purse but it's harder said than done, especially when someone is forcing your head back, stretching your eyelid open and coming close to shoving something that could be painful into your eye! Finally finding it among the crap in my bag I lift it high in the air so I can read the message bleeping for me, soon finding out that it's from Christian.

*I'M WAITING FOR YOU. IT'S GETTING BUSY, ARE YOU GOING TO BE LONG? C X*

I tap out my reply.

*ALMOST DONE! MIA IS JUST FINISHING UP NOW. BE THERE SOON. A X*

"You can't keep away from him, can you?"

"Huh?"

I flutter my eyes from the screen to Mia, blinking hard as she finally releases my eye and closes her mascara tube, throwing it back onto her dressing table.

"You and Christian. You're always in each other's pockets. It's cute." She drones as a womanly 'aw' like sound escapes from her mouth, the way it does when you see a baby or puppy. "Go on, go meet with him!"

"You're done?" I shriek, leaping off the stool before she has chance to change her mind. Nodding her head she ushers me out of the room, but not before I can get a glimpse of myself in the mirror.

Surprisingly my makeup is subtle and understated, considering how long I've been sat there while Mia played stylist. My hair shines with life, a true masterpiece from the capable and loving hands of Mia's hairstylist, Jet. He kept to my wishes of just a little taken off the overall length, feathering throughout to add volume and a new side fringe cut in to frame my otherwise dull face. Afterward he curled it all over, brushing out the tight curls to make it appear wavier instead of permed, then pulling a section from either side, braiding them to then clip them to the back of my head, creating a halo from my own hair. I look different, in a good way – a world away from my usual dowdy look or the harsh attire I've adorned courtesy of Katherine Kavanagh.

Leaving the room in a flash after taking in my new look I stumble in my heels on my way through the hall. They feel tight and uncomfortable, but I'm sure I will break them in soon enough. As I reach the stairs I begin to hear the noise filter up, the benefit in full-swing beneath me.

_Shit. Shit. Shit._

I cling to the banister as I descend, desperately trying to quicken my pace but remain upright at the same time. I almost forgot I still had my phone in my hand until it began ringing loudly in my grip. Without looking down at the screen, already fully aware of who the caller is, I answer it.

"I'm on my way. Be there in five." I shout down the phone, silencing him before he had chance to say a word by ending the call and shoving it into the depths of my purse. For such a small clutch it sure does hold a lot: phone, lip-gloss that I apparently 'needed', gum, perfume… just far too much unnecessary crap.

Jumping to the floor below from the bottom step I pause, reaching up and pulling a section of my hair from either side around to my chest I position it so it falls around my front, showing off my new style. I smooth down my dress and hitch up the top a little higher to make sure everything is secure, a wardrobe malfunction likely to occur with this style of dress.

I brace myself, heading through the hallway and over to the large dining room where tonight's festivities will be held, as they are with every event. Little about the room changes – the tables may seat more, or less, people or they may be spaced slightly differently but other than that everything is the same. The colours surrounding us are soft creams and gold's, the chandeliers above twinkling and flooding the room with a candescent tone. It's a lot to take in if this is your first time to one of Grace's benefits, I remember my first – I couldn't stop looking around, trying to adjust to my surroundings full of wealth and extravagance. Entering now, as someone married into it and aware of what to expect, the only thing that surprises me is that I have all of a sudden become the centre of attention. Every pair of eyes in the room seemingly concentrated solely on me as I enter.

_Don't fall. Do not fall._

I repeat this to myself as I try to negotiate the floor. I hate having people stare at me, especially with the majority of the men around the room ogling me and the women throwing over narrow glances. This was the only part of my wedding that I hated, the fear that I would fall over and land flat on my face, embarrassing myself. I try to keep my eyes fixed ahead of me, blanking them out as I guide my way over to the table at the head of the room – the only one with empty seats.

I manage to arrive at my destination quickly, but I'd place a bet that I looked a fool doing a stupid half run, half walk sort of waddle in painful footwear. I'm able to breathe as I take to my seat, holding my hand up to the men around the table as they make to stand and offer the first of many formal proceedings of the evening.

"I am so sorry that I'm late." I apologise, slipping into my seat and sliding it closer to the table.

"Oh darling, don't fret over it. You're here now and you look stunning."

I smile to the voice assuring me, forgiving my lateness, but I refuse to glance up from my plate. I'm sure it was Grace, positioned at the far end of the table, talking to me.

My pulse is throbbing in my ears as I feel his presence beside me, his elbow lightly pressing against mine. Before I have time to register a thing, or take a much needed sip of my water, he reaches across to take my hand away from my purse, wrapping his fingers around mine and pulling it to his mouth. He presses his lips to my hand, caressing my skin with his soft and gentle lips.

"You look magnificent. So beautiful." He whispers, kissing each of my knuckles then lowering my hand to his thigh, resting it there with his long fingers filling gaps between mine.

I want to pull back, thinking that somewhere along the way the wires have been crossed but he tightens his hold, leaning over from his chair and into my ear.

"I am so sorry." I feel his breath on me; his warm and welcome breath stinging my already sensitive skin. "I am sorry for everything I have done to you but please, just for tonight can we pretend everything is okay?"

"W-what?" I stammer, tilting my head towards him to look him in the eye.

"Please, just for tonight. I do not want a repeat of the last family function." His narrow greys examine my face, flickering all over before settling on mine again.

"Is that your way of asking whether I've told anyone what's happened? Because I haven't!" I huff, the latter of my inquisition higher pitched than the rest.

"I wasn't trying to say anything. I just wouldn't want anyone to know how much of a prick I've been, or that I could be so stupid to treat you that way." He keeps his voice low, tickling my skin with his breath as he explains.

He's sincere. I can hear it in his voice and I know he wouldn't be able to look me in the eye if he wasn't. At least I hope he wouldn't.

I open my mouth to say something, unsure of what could escape, but I'm silenced with all attention drawn to the master of commands taking to the microphone upon the stage ahead of us, the band ceasing their melodies and signalling the talk approaching.

The MC, a short blonde-haired man, addresses us with a smile and a cough to clear his voice before making a start. His nerves are on display to everyone in the room as he clumsily reaches into his pocket to pull out his notes, the paper shaking in his hold.

"Ladies and gentlemen… I w-would like to thank you for c-coming tonight. On behalf of Seattle Children's Hospital, for which this evening is for, we thank you for your help. As you may be aware, at the hospital we are proposing a new neo-natal ward for premature infants." He coughs again, licking his lips and scanning the room. "The ward is essential to the h-hospital with the surge of premature babies born in Washington rising each year. So, I would like to t-take this chance to ask you all to be generous and delve into your wallets. Our goal is to raise six million dollars in total, to n-not only fund the project but to buy new equipment and offer a better and more homely experience for both the infants and their parents."

The room explodes into a round of applause, the cause an instant success with the roar burning the ears of the MC. He finally breaks into a weak smile, waiting patiently for the crowd to calm before continuing.

"Thank you, now I would like to offer my gratitude to Dr Trevelyan-Grey and her husband, who are our generous hosts for this evening. Many of us are aware that Dr Trevelyan-Grey is one of the key members of the children's hospital, and has for many years helped, and cared for the children of Washington and their families. Tonight is not only sentimental for that reason alone, but for the fact that Dr Trevelyan-Grey and her husband are due to become grandparents for the first time…"

_FUCK!_

I squeeze Christian's hand, my knuckles turning translucent as I glare at him. His face mirrors mine, proof that this is news to both of us.

_How the hell does he know I'm pregnant? Who the fuck told him?_

"So, please join me in raising your glasses and offering warm-hearted congratulations to their son, and his wife on this exciting news. To Christian and Anastasia Grey."

Lifting his glass he quickly downs the contents, the room exploding into a roar again and all attention shining upon me and Christian.

I force a smile to my face as everyone around the room stares at us, shouting out our names and whistling their offering of congratulations. I can't look at anyone other than those around my table, each and every one of them as shocked as we are, disconcerted that the MC has just broadcasted such private news to the crowd of strangers around us. Christian's thumb traces my knuckles in an attempt to calm me as he deals with his own frustration.

"How the fuck did he find out?" Christian snaps, glaring to the midget on stage that's stumbling down the steps and hastily making his way over to his own table.

"Christian!" Grace snaps back, accosting him for his language.

"Sorry, but how did he find out? No one knows apart from colleagues and family members."

"Whoa –"

Sitting across from me Elliot lifts his phone from underneath the table, his eyes wide as he reaches across to Kate and shows her.

"What?" I ask him.

"It's all over the internet…" He breaks, throwing his phone across the table and into Christian's catch. "It broke this morning."

I stare at Christian as he reads it, surmising the details for us all. "Someone who was in Neimans yesterday said you were requiring assistance with maternity wear. The source - an employee - claims you could be as far as five or six months… It goes on to claim that's the reason we married." His tongue spits out the disgust that our news is now public domain. _Why is nothing sacred anymore?_

I quickly jerk my head over to Kate, her face full of venom as she mouths 'Becky' to me – the bitchy sales assistant. I nod my head in agreement, I mean no one else dealt with us and it certainly wouldn't have been Caroline who spilled the news!

"I'll deal with it." Kate assures me, the cogs in her brain working overtime as she comes up with ways to get her back. I allow her, trying to absorb the shock that everyone now knows about Blip.

I knew people would find out eventually, the fact I'll be the size of a house and pushing a stroller might have given it away but still, a little longer to keep this to ourselves wasn't too much to ask for, was it?

* * *

Collapsing into one of the chairs around the table I throw my purse onto the top, grabbing hold of my glass and throwing back the entire contents in one gulp. The amount of people in the room is creating an unbearable heat, my hair starting to cling to my forehead. The ice cold water is soothing, instantly cooling my skin and refreshing me.

My back is sore from standing for the majority of the evening, having walked around and trying to maintain the fake grin on my face as the same questions were thrown to me – how did you find out? When are you due? And, do you know what you're having? My answers the same and on loop – I peed in a pot and the stick came out blue, I have a while yet and no, we do not know what we're having and we wouldn't divulge that information if we did. I was fed up hearing it, eventually leaving Christian to mingle on his own while I sought solace at the table for a moment's peace. He was put out when I left his side but understood, making his apologies to everyone on my behalf.

It's nice to finally get away and admire everyone else for a change, the attention only briefly turning to me when Christian approaches someone else, their wives turning to smile and coo over my swell that's artfully hidden under my gown.

"Is it impeccably rude to interrupt you when you have at last achieved a moment alone?"

I spin around in my chair, the voice and hand on my shoulder startling me and causing a great deal of concern. I shift immediately, moving out of its hold as I prepare to snap at whoever has touched me, but calm instantaneously as I recognise the familiar face.

"John?"

I rise to my feet, holding onto the back of the chair as I stand and extend my arm out to him. "I had no idea you were here."

"Ah, I've been hiding away most of the evening waiting patiently to speak with Christian, however he seems to be very popular tonight." He jousts his head across the room, the huddle around Christian being to grow – the grimace on his face spreading wider. "How are you, Ana?"

"I'm good thank you. Oh, I must thank you for the flowers you sent. They were beautiful." I express my gratitude for the dozen, sweet-smelling pink and white roses that were sent to our door when Christian finally got round to telling Flynn our news.

"You're very much welcome, however I can't take credit. They were Rhian's idea." Accepting my hand he shakes it gently, keeping hold for a second longer than normal. "Now, can I be as crude to ask for a dance with the most gracious and beautiful woman in the room?"

I blush, my cheeks firing crimson at his compliment. "_The most?_ Whatever would your wife think about that?" I giggle and scower the room in search of Flynn's wife.

"What she doesn't know and all that tripe. But in actual fact I am alone this evening, Rhian is at home with the boys." He pauses, leading me across the room and toward the dance floor. "Oh the joys of offspring susceptible to the common cold and not being to find a babysitter in time."

"I guess we have that to come."

I drone, knowing that Blip will have many bouts of cold and flu as a child, especially if I was anything to go by. My Mom frequently reminds me of the times I would go to school with a pocket full of tissues and being forced to take my vitamins in hopes of quashing the latest bug.

Flynn guides me around the floor with ease but without Christian's excellent posture and grace. We engage in meaningless conversation as we waltz and glide in and out of other couples sticking to a two-minute, four-step shuffle along the wooden floors. I break into a smile as I spot Christian across the room, his face bringing a tickle to the back of my throat as his grandmother accosts him, but this is the only smile I've mustered during our dance.

We make our way through one, then two songs until he finally breaks the silence that has extended around us.

"I do not know whether it is the professional in me or simply intuition, but I can sense something is wrong. Are you sure you're okay?" He asks, glaring down at me with his soft eyes.

I tense in his hold and shake my head, brushing it off. "John, you're not working at this moment in time and it would be ill-mannered to have your evening ruined by my quarrels and issues."

"Ana, I may not be working but yours and Christian's wellbeing is always a concern of mine. I care for both of you in more than a professional manner, but if you'd prefer it you could always make an appointment to discuss things?"

"I don't know…" I mutter, turning my eyes away from Flynn and jerking them to the other faces around the room.

"Well, have a think about it at least. I was actually hoping to gage Christian into making an appointment he can stick to. I'm concerned that he has missed the past five meetings."

"Five?!"

"Indeed, each time he makes one he calls and cancels moments before he is scheduled to arrive." His face shifts from a warm glow to confusion. "I know I have told you previously that you have made more progress with him than I have in years, but I worry that maybe something might get pushed under the rug and he may hold it back. I'm not trying to suggest he would keep anything from you, I just mean I know you are sure for yourself that openness between marital partners is essential, but sometimes it helps to have someone unattached to discuss things openly with, without the fear of prejudice."

_The man speaks truth!_

"I can have a word with him, try and get him to attend. Maybe it'll help with the other things going on lately?" I speculate, the idea that he'll have someone else to dismiss and talk down to for an hour a week is appealing.

"I stress that forcing Christian into doing anything is not the key, but I would be grateful if you could have a word with him. I would like to meet with him if not for my own sanity." Flynn breaks into a smile, my generosity and help welcome for a change. "Whilst I haven't spoken to him lately I have kept my ear to the ground. I'm aware of some of the recent issues regarding a certain Ms Lincoln."

A chill shudders down my spine at the mere mention of her name, too much for Flynn not to notice but he thankfully moves along quickly, not bringing her into the conversation for long.

"Please know Ana that I understand wholly why this is cause for concern in your life, but something I will suggest – consider it a freebie if you will – is that you try to take a step back from the immediate emotions surrounding this issue." His words are contrived with care, his determination to express his advice without angering me evident and etched across his face. "In my personal and somewhat professional opinion, I believe that the recent changes in your circumstances could be heightening your thoughts and emotions.

"I'm not trying to force any jargon down your throat, or stick my nose in where it's not wanted but even I have noticed that something must be going on between you both. The way you've barely spoken two words to each other all evening, and the way he's staring at us dancing while we dance is a little concerning."

I twist my head to the side as we turn and sway, indeed noticing that Christian is keeping a close eye on us as we mingle in with the growing crowd on the floor. He's watched me all evening, keeping me in his eye-line and thoughts at every turn.

I nod my head to Flynn, his observation the truth but I don't want to get into it here, partly for not wanting to ruin his evening, and also for discretion.

"As I said, make an appointment and we can discuss everything in depth and hopefully resolve some issues, if not I hope to be able to offer you tools to enable this. I understand the marital stresses upon both of your shoulders, especially with your baby on the way."

He spins me again as the song changes into a crooning rendition of 'Feeling Good'.

"It's hard to adjust to the arrival of a new life, God do I know that. Back when Rhian and I were newly married we were each other's world, the focus of each other's attention until we found out about our son. We lived in England at the time, not far from my hometown of Surrey but it was clear that she needed to come home. Little did I know at the time but first time mothers require a tremendous amount of support and comfort. Stupidly I shrugged off her wishes and we stayed put for several months until Rhian had enough."

His face drops once again as he recalls this. I tell him not to discuss this with me if it's too much but he continues without hesitation.

"I came home from work one evening and she was packing her belongings, her flight back home already booked. She left on her own to head back to her parents over in Vancouver. It was the longest four days of my life but as much as I hated it, it was necessary. It made me realise that Rhian and her feelings were more important to me than being in a familiar country that I loved. It took that separation for me to realise this, I knew I couldn't be without her so I packed everything up and left England.

"By the time we were reunited everything fell into the place and we were back on track. I regret treating her that way, but my decision to leave my home nation was, and always will be the most important decision I have ever made. It helped us, forced us even, to re-evaluate our situation and brought us back together, for the sake of our marriage and our child. I'm in no way suggesting yours and Christian's problems are the same as ours were, but maybe the mundane routine of being in the same environment that the problems are is adding to the issues?"

Pulling out of my hold he apologies, reaching down into his pants pocket for his phone. With a smile he reads the message, pushing it back into his pocket and returning to our dance.

"Many apologies, it appears Rhian is in need of being relieved of her babysitting duties." Rolling his eyes he bows, the formality of it cringe-worthy but necessary at the same time. "With that I will excuse myself and apologise once again, more so for boring you with my life story."

"No, don't! It's helpful to hear it, it gives me a little hope." I speak honestly, his advice and words swirling around my mind and bringing a genuine smile to my face. His words clicking and making sense.

"Well I'm glad it helped. Be sure to think about my offer, I would be more than happy to see you and Christian together or separately if you wish."

"I definitely will." I grin, stepping forward to kiss his cheek. "Thank you, John."

"You're welcome." Dipping once more he steps back and heads across the room to offer his farewell to the hosts.

As he leaves my side I sway on the spot for a second unsure of what to do, eventually settling my thoughts on taking up my previous seat at the table to resume my people watching. I offer my apologies as I cut people up as I make my way across the room, slumping into the chair housing my purse and gratefully finding a new glass of sparkling water sitting in front of my place. The dancing has tired me and hurt my feet more than they were before but resting helps.

_Jeez, I'm tired from dancing?!_ God, they don't lie when they say pregnancy screws you over. _I hope you're worth it?_

I chuckle, running my hand over my stomach and correcting myself. _What am I thinking? Of course you're worth it!_

"Hello dear."

Lifting my eyes from my glass I smile as Carrick joins me, groaning as he slumps into the chair beside me not before reaching across and lightly kissing my forehead.

"Hi, are you okay?"

"I'm happier now for having a chance to sit down with my daughter-in-law." A grin extends across his lips and I blush, his kind words appeasing and welcome. "How are you and my grandchild?"

"We're fine. Perfectly fine." I smile. As far as I'm aware Blip's health is perfect and on track, but I won't know for certain until my rescheduled appointment on Tuesday evening.

"Ah, I'm so glad. You know we were all so worried when –" he trails off, his point clear and painful. "Well, I'm just glad that you're both fine."

"Honestly Carrick, we're perfect. All of us." I assure him, taking his hand in mine and squeezing it.

"That's music to my ears. It was a very stressful evening, it's horrible to say but I don't know who I was more concerned for – you and the baby, my son having disappeared in thin air, or Grace."

"_Grace_?" I question him.

"Well, naturally you and the baby were my main focus but when it happened – when Christian came downstairs for his mother, I was concerned for her feelings. Whether she could cope, or if it would bring everything back to her."

"I'm sorry Carrick, but you have me at a loss." I sit back, throwing my hand to my forehead and wiping my fringe from my face. "Why would it… Bring everything back?" I struggle to get out my words, unsure of what I'm even trying to say.

"Have you never wondered why Grace and I never had children of our own?"

His eyes concentrate on mine as he leans in closer to me, the noise of everyone having a good time hampering our talk. I nod my head, allowing him to continue without pause.

"Back when I was in college, studying for my first year of attorney law I played football in my spare time. It was in a game against the Yale team when everything took a downward fall. I was a centre back and got caught up in a tussle. I sustained _'blunt force trauma'_ to a… delicate area. Naturally I went to hospital however I was told there and then, under no uncertain terms, that it would affect my fertility."

Accepting a glass of Champagne from a passing waiter he takes a sip, placing it in front of him as he continues.

He traces the rim of the glass with his finger as he tells me, his eyes dedicated to his finger as he divulges this sensitive and private information. I feel awkward hearing it, this level of intimacy unfamiliar – I've never really spoken to Carrick on my own before, let alone discussed things of this nature but I accept his memories, grateful for any insight into the past of my new family and grateful for being trusted with this information.

"When I met Grace I had no idea what to do, whether I should be upfront with her or go through the rigmarole of trying for a child that will never arrive. I forced myself to come clean and I told her everything shortly before we were due to marry. She was perfect about it all, hell there is nothing about that woman that any man can find fault with. She understood and assured me that if we weren't to have children by natural means we would adopt. We both liked the idea, it's hard to escape that there are tonnes of children who are in need of a good home, so we put our names down for adoption.

"It's a very long process but when we found Elliot that was it. We fell in love with him and he was ours after a long and drawn out line of red tape. We had Elliot for two and a half years when we found out that Grace was pregnant…"

I spit out the water in my mouth, spluttering and coughing until I regain myself, bringing a napkin to my mouth to wipe away the drool. He waits until I'm better before continuing, making sure that I'm not about to keel over in front of him.

"Yes, it was a shock to us too. It shouldn't have been, we took no forms of contraception on the understanding that it wasn't ever going to happen for us, but then all of a sudden it did. We were relieved and excited at the prospect of finally having something we secretly wanted, of course we kept the news from Elliot as he was too young to bombard with it, but now we realise we were probably protecting him for the sadder news that followed."

Carrick pauses, taking back more of his drink as he prepares for the memory that follows. He doesn't need to say anything else, I know where this going. His mouth presses into a hard line across his face as his eyes close, squinting hard as he remembers.

"Grace carried the pregnancy until the fourteenth week. We went to bed and everything was fine, when we woke it was gone. In a flash everything was taken away from us."

"Carrick, I am so sorry."

I fight back my own tears, knowing what he must have felt before they knew for certain they had lost the baby. I died a thousand deaths until I heard his heartbeat, and knew he was okay and still with us.

"Oh, it was meant to be. Yes it was heart-breaking for both of us, but it just wasn't meant to happen for us. Grace took a long time off work, to recover but also to grieve. Although we never really had this, we felt as though we did. That baby was a part of us and we lost it. She took four months off all in all before she decided to return to work. For obvious reasons I didn't want her to go back, the fact that she'd be working with pregnant women and babies would kill her inside but she insisted that she needed to, and now we understand why.

"It was fate that Grace was heading back to work that day, because you see, Ana, that was the day my son was found. It was fate that brought us all together. Grace was the one who dealt with him and he stuck to her like glue. When she came home that evening she told me and the following morning we met with child services, and well… I think you know the rest."

I'm in a world of shock, just staring dumbfounded at Carrick as he rolls his shoulders and takes back the rest of his glass.

I had no idea. I guess I never really thought about it…

"Carrick I-I… I just assumed that maybe you adopted because of your careers, that after working so hard to get where you were that you wouldn't want anything to interfere with them."

"It's a valid thought, a lot of people assumed that was the case what with Grace moving up to a higher position and my firm starting out. I guess it's just one of those things you don't discuss." He shrugs, reaching across for my hand and gripping it between his warm palms. "I am so happy that you are a part of my family Ana. I couldn't have asked for anyone better for my son."

"Thank you for welcoming me. You and Grace have both made this so easy for us, for me." I pause, moving closer towards him. "And thank you for telling me that. I understand it must be hard for you discuss this but I'm grateful you trusted me with it."

"You're family, Ana. Our lives are an open book. If you want to know anything you are more than welcome to ask. We have no secrets."

"I wouldn't want to pry, and I'm sure I've taken up enough of your time already!"

Checking his wristwatch and noticing the time he spins on his chair, glancing over his shoulder to scan the room.

"Indeed, I could happily spend all night you but I would imagine my wife would not be pleased that I am neglecting our guests."

"It wouldn't look good would it?" I laugh, standing with him as he straightens his tie. I gesture to him that its fine, leaning forward to accept his embrace.

"Thank you dear and I really am elated that you're okay, especially after the other day."

Pulling away from him I quiz his face, narrowing my eyes and trying to understand. "I don't know what you mean?"

"About Jack Hyde. That he was transferred to a lower security facility on Wednesday evening. Christian did tell you, didn't he?"

I shake my head, scowering the room in search for my dear, beloved and honest husband.

_Again?! You've got to be kidding me?_

"I'm sure he meant to, he was frantic when he called me after finding out. It came as a shock, thinking that we paid such an astronomical amount of money for the lawyer to just fuc… mess it up in the end." He corrects himself, his eyes apologising for his 'almost' outburst.

"Yeah, I'm sure he meant to as well." I retort, cursing under my breath as I continue to scan the room for him.

Kissing my cheek he leaves me, heading off into the mass of people on the floor and Grace standing out among them all, her pearl coloured dress unique and exquisite.

The urge to pee hits me like a bus - the sparking water, Blip and dancing affecting my bladder's competence. Grabbing my purse from the table I make a start towards the hallway, wanting to use the bathrooms upstairs for added privacy and comfort. I manage to shuffle my way across the room without being harassed, the only person who made contact was a waitress offering me a glass of Champagne, I just looked at her with one of those 'are you kidding?' sort of glances as I weaved past her.

Hitting the staircase I kick off my heels, ready to run as quick as I can with the urge growing stronger to the point of almost peeing myself.

_Please don't do this to me!_

I crouch down to scoop them up and charge, held back by a pair of dress shoes meeting my eye-line and a hand caressing the top of my arm. I rise steadily, using him as a framework for keeping me upright, and a little hesitant to meet his usually harsh greys.

"Are you okay?"

"No." I blurt out, shrugging out of his hold as I race up the staircase. I grapple the banister as I heave myself up, pounding as fast as my legs can take me with my thighs pressed hard together.

"Ana?" I can hear him begin to race up behind me, his voice screaming out with concern.

I can't talk. Somehow thinking that by conserving my energy into holding in my pee will prevent me from ruining my dress, the carpets and my dignity.

"Ana?!"

_Oh come on, move quicker._ I scream out to my feet, reaching the end of the hall and running straight into Mia's bedroom and heading for her on-suite.

Before I reach the porcelain I hitch up my dress, wriggling my panties down my legs and preparing myself for relief.

_Oh sweet Jesus…_

I cry out a sigh of relief as I begin to let myself go, allowing my bladder to empty everything I have.

"Ana, baby?"

Hearing Christian's voice calling after me I shudder in embarrassment, realising that I've left the door open and I have no ability to stand and close it. He calls again, growing closer to me.

_Oh, God no!_

"Ana?" Reaching Mia's bathroom he stands in the doorway, his hands holding onto either side with his eyes examining me.

I slouch forward, covering myself and curling around my legs. "Don't look!" I squeal, the embarrassment unbearable.

"Ana, don't be embarrassed." Moving towards me he drops to his knees, his hands grabbing hold of my head and lifting it from my lap. "Look at me."

"Please, just go. I don't want you to see this." I resist him. "Go, please go!"

"I'm not going anywhere. You need to get over this weird thing you have about me knowing that you pee." His words shift from calm to stern in a nanosecond. "It's my impression that I'll be with you in the delivery suite when you bring our baby into the world, I'm pretty sure I'm going to see worse!"

"You will not be looking down there!"

"Try and stop me." He pulls my head up, cupping his fingers around my chin as he stares into my eyes. I try to shrug away, feeling uncomfortable that he's this close and watching me as I urinate.

"Please, can you go? This is too weird."

Throwing his head back he climbs to his feet, caressing my chin once more and then leaving the bathroom, pulling the door to a close behind him.

_Thank God!_

I'm able to finish in peace and freshen up, wiping away the lightly smudged mascara from underneath my eyes and dabbing away the build-up of perspiration on my forehead.

After a night of dancing, talking and finding out new things I don't look too bad. I would have expected to be a wreck by now – my makeup peeling off me and my hair dishevelled. I guess this just an added bonus? I've learnt a lot tonight – hearing about Christian's missed appointments with Flynn, finding out that Flynn and his wife went through a rough patch, and the reason why Carrick and Grace never had any children of their own. To call this an information overload is a little bit of an understatement, and to top it all off finding out about Hyde. I have no idea what to make of this, Carrick giving nothing away but even he seemed shocked that Christian didn't tell me!

_Wait! Wednesday? _

A blur of Wednesday's events fast forward through my mind as I leave the bathroom, switching off the light as I leave.

Entering into Mia's bedroom I'm focused on Christian, sitting on the bed with his elbows resting on his knees. He lifts his head as I enter and smile creeps across his lips.

"Come sit for a second?" He pats the mattress and an empty spot beside him. I oblige, staggering across the carpet, my battered feet taking me to him.

As I sit down I take ook at my feet, my toes red and beginning to blister with my heels shredded bare.

"Ana?"

"Yeah?" I lift my head to him, watching him as he twists his body to angle himself to me openly.

"Ana, baby. My baby, I am so sorry." Sliding off the bed he lands on his knees, shuffling towards me and pushing my knees apart to creep closer to me. "Please, please forgive me. I am on my knees begging for your forgiveness. I'm sorry."

"Sorry for what? Being rude? Controlling? Arrogant? Cruel? Sending security to my door –" I could trail off for hours, reading off every single thing, but I'm silenced with his fingers pressing against my lips.

"For everything. Every single thing you have brought to my attention, I apologise for it all. More so for being such a fucking prick for sending Taylor and the others to you. It was a monumental mistake and I am sorry."

I wriggle my head away from his fingers, my eyes diverting from his face to skim the room. Mia's bedroom is princess like – antique white furniture, soft pinks and peach embellishments everywhere bar the pristine white walls.

"Please look at me." Christian urges but doesn't force me, I offer myself willingly. "You know I would never jeopardise yours or the baby's safety. I would never have allowed them to touch you. I promise you!"

"Then why tell them that they could? You're just sending out mixed fucking signals!"

"I just panicked. You left, without telling me where you were going and I needed you home. I needed you home so I could make sure you were safe."

I stare down at him, sitting between my legs as I interrogate him. "When were you going to tell me?"

"Tell you what?"

"Now is not the time to be blasé about this. When were you going to tell me about Jack-fucking-Hyde?"

In an instant his eyes drop to my knees.

"When?" I press him again. "Or did you plan on keeping it from me?"

"I was going to tell you. I just wanted to make sure everything was under control first. Ana, you have to understand how I felt! My wife missing and finding out that bastard is not secure!" Pushing off the ground he stands, running his fingers through his hair and lifting it from his face.

"Christian, answer me one thing. If I was at home, the whole time, safe and out of trouble would you have come to me and told me what was happening?" My voice is cold but clear, each word slow and insistent.

Stilling, with his back to me, his shoulders visibly tense through his suit. Throwing his head back he lets out a sigh. Without uttering anything I know. I know he wouldn't have told me.

"For fucks sake Christian!" Screaming out I push off the bed, beginning to pace the room. "See this is just something else you've decided to keep from me. Nothing ever changes, does it? After everything, you've not learnt a fucking thing have you?"

Revolving on his heel he turns to me, marching over to stand in front of me and stopping me from pounding the carpet.

"Ana. Ana, I made a mistake and I'm sorry. Please, calm down. Please, I am begging you."

Holding me by the tops of my arms he keeps me from moving before pulling me into his chest, his hand moving to my the back of my head and pushing it to his heart.

"Please, please, please forgive me. Please, baby, let's just go downstairs and enjoy the rest of the evening."

Pushing away from his chest I glare up at his face, questioning him.

"Because my parents have gone to a lot of trouble to ensure that tonight is a success, that and I want to know much money they raised so I can double it." He shrugs, his reasoning making perfect and clear sense to him.

"Double it?"

"Yes. I'll double whatever amount they've raised. I really do not want to think this way but it's a worthy cause, and it might be a wise investment seeing as we have no idea what the future holds."

_Don't think that way_. I remind myself, fighting back all negative thoughts seeping into my mind.

"Now, will you join me downstairs?" Stroking my hair through his fingers his tongue traces his lower lip. "I love that you kept it long."

"Can I have a few minutes?" I ask, looking into his eyes and begging him. I need a minute before I can go downstairs again.

"Of course, don't keep me waiting. Are we okay?"

Unable to answer him I muster a smile, enough to send him on his way in peace and without question. I wait until he's left the room before I collapse backwards onto the mattress, my feet still firmly on the floor.

It's always the same.

We're just going around and round in circles with no resolution or end. I thought we'd made it past this point. I thought he had learnt to not keep anything from me, after the bitch troll business.

Nothing is ever going to change.

Something needs to change.

Forcing myself to sit up I grab my purse, emptying the contents onto the bed and grabbing my phone. With shaking fingers I scroll through my contacts list, in no time at all finding the number I want. I press my phone to my ear as I wait for the answer.

"Hello?" The voice on the other end is quiet and startled by a call at this time of night.

"Hi, it's Ana. I need a favour."

* * *

It's quarter past twelve and the night has drawn to a close, the MC taking to the stage for the final time and happily announcing that they succeeded their goal of raising six million dollars, with a considerable donation from Christian and I rocketing the amount to $15,000,000. I was shocked, but grateful, that Christian added my name to the donation. I wanted to help the cause just as much as he did, and would have happily signed over a check because he's right - we have no idea what the future may hold. Who knows if at some point in our life our children, grandchildren or great-grandchildren may need specialist treatment. We just don't know.

I've remained close to Christian's side for the rest of the night, his hand resting on my hip preventing me from moving away from him. I know he knows something is up, I mean how couldn't he? Not when I'm this distant, in a world of my own worrying whether she has managed to arrange everything I have asked for. I've been on tender hooks since she relucantly agreed to help me, not simply for the obvious reasons but also for how I'm going to explain this.

Forcing a smile across my face I side with him as we thank everyone for coming and their congratulations over our news, but I'm starting to panic as we come closer to heading home and facing my decision.

As the last person passes us Christian's fingers leave my hip and trail up the back of my dress, hitting the exposed skin of my shoulders.

"Are you ready to leave?"

I nod my head to me, my feet sticking to ground like superglue as he treks off in search of the rest of our security team.

I hadn't noticed until a while ago that they have been positioned around the room all evening, one of them in every corner of the dance floor, one on each entrance and exit and one staying close to me for heightened protection, Taylor the one fulfilling this role.

I wait until Christian is out of earshot before I turn to address Taylor.

"Ma'am?"

"Are you aware of the situation?" I ask him, keeping details down to a minimum in case she hasn't had chance to talk to him yet.

"I am. Last update everything was ready for you."

I relax hearing this, knowing that the pieces are slowing coming together just before they're about to fall apart. I keep assuring myself that everything's going to be fine, but I fail each time.

I force in a large amount of air, filling my lungs completely as I watch Christian saunter over towards us again and I count down for the fall out of my requests.

* * *

Pulling up onto the driveway, Taylor bringing the car to a halt in a free space next to the other waiting SUV I stare out of my window and gaze up at the extravagance of our home. Each window is glowing a light that's tinged with yellow, illuminating the driveway and casting shadows of the cars long into the distance.

I wait patiently in my seat for Christian to meet me at my door and help me from the car, having already freed me from my seatbelt. It's the least I can do for him.

As we pace the short walk over to the house we remain silent, my fingers gently squeezing his as I start to overthink this. I begin to question whether this is the right thing to do, but deep down I know it is.

With Gail still around somewhere in the house the door is unlocked and ready for us to arrive home. With grace Christian steps to one side, pushing the door open and allowing me to step in first before following me.

I clocked them as soon as I walked through the door, they're not exactly easy on the eye and I know Christian's eyes were drawn to them within seconds of entering the hall.

I chew down hard onto my lower lip waiting for him to register them and what they mean, his face twisted and his mouth open wide.

"Ana? What the fuck are those?" His stutters, panic filling his voice as he stills, fixed to the floor like concrete.

I lift my eyes from the floor as he points to the floor and the suitcase and luggage bags waiting by the door. I have to fight back the urge to be flippant and come out with some sort of sarcastic comment, instead calmly answering his question with my explanation not before trying to calm him down. His chest is rising far too rapidly for my liking, though I can't blame him for worrying.

"Christian, calm down. Please?"

I move to his side, placing my hands on the lapels of his jacket and bringing his attention to me and not the bags waiting to leave. "I have a meeting in Portland on Monday afternoon, and I thought maybe it'd be a good idea to head down for the weekend..." Gulping hard with a dry throat I finish. "And to get a bit of distance."

I stare at him as he softens, his hands leaving his sides and moving up to cup my face. Tracing my cheek with his fingers he expels the pent-up air in his chest. "Sounds good, but it's short notice."

"I have to go. I really need to go and get away. I want to spend some time with Ray, and just get away from here..." I ramble, throwing out everything but the real reason I'm leaving.

"Baby, its fine. You need to see your Dad, it's only natural that you miss me." Caressing my skin he smirks. "Just give me an hour, okay? I'll have them prep Charlie Tango and make sure she's ready to go."

I stumble away from him, pulling away from his hold and realising that he definitely isn't on the same page as me.

"Christian, you don't understand…"

"Shhh, baby... I know you don't want to fly but she's safe. She's been fixed and she's as good as new." I presses again.

"No, Christian -"

Interrupting me again he moves and takes my hand in his, continuing to state his case. "I understand, but I would never jeopardise your safety like that. Ana, it's quicker to fly then to go by road. We can be at the hotel in two hours."

"For fucks sake, you're not listening to me!" I scream out, the noise escaping my from lungs scaring me.

I pause to adjust, shaking my head as I prepare myself for the battle that will unfold.

I need to tell him.

"I am not going in the damn helicopter because I'm not going with you. I'm going to Portland on my own."

Closing my eyes I block him out, just his mutters and mumbling proof that he's still alive and not had a fucking coronary.

"No."

Opening my eyes again I watch him as he falls backwards on his toes, looking as if someone has just winded me.

"No!"

"Christian, I need time alone. I need to get away from all of this because it's too much for me to handle. I can't cope anymore, not with the same old shit on repeat." I plan my words carefully in my mind, trying to remember Flynn's words from earlier. He said it helped them, so why can't it help us?

"I need time to re-evaluate all of this."

"What do you have to re-evaluate? Do you not want me anymore?" His shoulders drop and he hunches over, towering over me and staring me out.

"Please, Christian... We need this. We need time away from each other. You've admitted it yourself that neither of us can think if we're around each other all of the time!"

I move closer to his side, pushing my hands to his arms in an attempt to stop him from shaking. His hands are trembling at his sides, his head shaking back and forth, and his chin and bottom lip quiver as he fights back his tears.

"I need this Christian. I need to figure out what's going on inside my head, and you time to really understand what you've done."

"A-Ana… I h-have…" His voices starts to break as the tears make their descent down his cheeks. They fall free and fast, as if someone has just broke the faucet and can't stop the water gushing out.

"I don't think you have. I don't know if you really and truly understand what this has done to me." I prise his fingers apart and fill the gaps with mine while my other hand reaches up to hold his face to mine, to make sure I maintain his attention and he really hears me. "We're not going to move forward if we're just stuck in this dead end. Something has to change."

I roll my shoulders, stating the obvious to him.

"I'll change. Baby, I promise I'll change. I'll make it right again, I can't lose you Ana."

With his erratic breathing finally catching up with him Christian falls to the floor, taking me with him and landing on his behind. Pulling me down into his lap I'm forced to sit between his legs as he cradles me and wraps his arms around my waist. He sobs continuously and loud as I hold his face between my hands, stroking his cheek and trying to wipe away the tears only for new ones to fall in their place.

"I'm not l-losing you. I won't let you go." He cries, rocking me from side to side.

"You need to let me do this. I can't keep doing this. I'm not prepared to put us through it anymore. I'm fed up with -"

I'm dismissed by his interruption, his fingers pushing into my hip as he tries to quash any hopes of moving out of his hold. "Ana..."

"Just stop Christian!" I snap, pushing my hand to his shoulder and using all of my strength to prise his arms from my waist. "Why can't you let me finish?"

I'm unable to get him to release me, instead forced to sit there as he starts to shake more violently than before, this time through fear.

_He's scared of me?_

"See, this is the problem! It's communication, it always has been." I exclaim, trying to keep my voice down but failing. "You moan that I don't talk to you, or open up to you but can't you see that I don't because I fear you'll snap at me and want to punish me because I'm not following your orders?

"I'm not allowed to say what I want and I've had enough. I need to be free to do what I want, and I need to start putting myself first and stop worrying about whether you'll be upset with me."

Shifting in his lap I move to sit directly in front of him, face to face. "But most of all, I am sick and fucking tired of you keeping things from me. You swore to me that you wouldn't keep anything from me."

Lifting his head his meets my eyes, his doe greys staring up at me with fear and pain lurking behind them. The tears fall continually and a patch is slowly forming around his collar.

"Ana…"

"We both know that if I didn't find out tonight, or if I was a good girl on Wednesday and didn't tell you to go fuck yourself and try to do things my own way, you wouldnt have told me." I reach forward and wipe his face with the palm of my hand, the mothering in me unable to sit back and be cold to him. "We both know you wouldn't."

"I would. I promise I would" He cocks his head, moving his lips into the way of my palm and kissing it with his plump, soft petals. "I promise you."

I creep forward and take him in my arms, cradling him as he sobs. His tears soak the top of my dress as they fall from his cheeks and collect on my chest, but it's the least of my concerns. Over and over again he utters his apologies, his arms wrapped around me once more and forcing me close to him. We could easily sit here all night, but the sound of footsteps emerging from the door draws my attention away. I glance up and notice Taylor staring over at us, his face etcehd with worry as he eyes Christian.

"Is everything okay, Mrs Grey?"

I nod my head, caressing my fingers through Christian's hair and holding him to me. "Can you please load the car?"

"Of course." With a nod and the oddest of smiles he approaches us, moving around Christian's legs splayed out in front to grab my things.

"No!"

I twist my head away from his, my ears ringing from the loud, piercing scream emerging from his chest. His chest vibrates against me as he cries out, pleading and begging for mercy.

"Taylor's coming with me, and Sawyer. I trust them more than the others, but if you'd rather he didn't -"

"I'd rather you didn't... I don't want you to go. Ana, you can't leave me." He writhes like a child in my arms, nuzzling against my chest as his heart breaks right in front of my eyes, each and every words difficult and taking a lot of energy to muster through his cries.

"It's just three days."

"I don't care how long it is, you're leaving me and I know you won't come back. You won't come back."

"Of course I'm coming back. Christian, look at me –" I tug on his hair to pull his face from my body so I can look at him. "It's just three days."

"No…" He persists, his hands moving up to grab my face and force it to his, bringing our noses to a touch. "You'll leave and realise you don't need me. You won't want to come back."

"I'm doing this for us. Nothing is ever going to change if neither of us is willing to take the leap and force the issue."

I'm stunned with how I've managed to keep it together even though on the inside my dying. I can feel my lips starting to tremble and my eyes filling with water but I'm able to hold them back, just for a minute longer at least. I can't bare to watch him suffer like this, or cry his eyes out and plead with me not to leave but I'm resiliant - I've probably cried enough these past couple of weeks to last me a lifetime, either that or as soon as I leave I'll break down. The latter seeming the most likely of the two.

I need to stand. I push my hands to his shoulders to lift myself from the floor, this task more challenging with his hands gripping hard onto my hands and attempting to stop me yet again.

"Please, please don't leave me."

"I have to. You need to let me do this. You need to let me go." I plead with him, cupping his face and bringing my lips to his. "Let me do this."

"No."

"Please, Christian." I kiss him lightly once more before using all of my strength to peel his hands away from me.

Letting me go, his hands falling the floor with a clatter, but he keeps his eyes on me as I rise. "Promise me you'll come back. Promise me?"

"I'm coming back." I assure him, clambering to my feet and turning away from him in the direction of the door.

It's cold outside, or at least it is to me. An array of chill spots spread over me as I head straight for the open car door, Sawyer already sitting in the front passenger seat and Taylor in the driver's. I pause as I meet the door, second guessing myself.

_It has to be done._

As I stand there, taking in cold air burning my lungs and throat I feel his hands wrap around me, pushing to my stomach and holding me close to him, pulling me back into his chest. His head nuzzles my neck, his wet cheeks dampening my hair as he kisses me repeatedly.

I move away, needing to break the tie between us and slip into the car. He releases me but sticks close as I settle into the back of the seat. He reaches across to adjust my seatbelt for me, securing me in place before pulling away. Sranding in the way of the door he reaches into his jacket pocket, pulling out a white envelope with my name on the front in black ink.

"I want you to have this." He mumbles, his voice broken and full of hurt. "I spent all of last night working on it and I really want you to read it, but only when you're ready. I'm not forcing you."

I take it from him, my fingers lightly brushing his and I accept it and move it to lie on my lap.

"I will read it. I want to read it." I assure him. "I want you have this."

Mirroring his action of offering me something I reach to my left hand, twisting my rings and freeing my finger of them.

"No, no, no… Please don't do this." His tears fall heavy, as he begs.

Leaning down into the car he grabs my head, wrapping his hand around the nape of my neck and bringing my face to his. "Don't…"

"I need you to look after it for me, just until I come back on Monday." I fight back the water flooding my eyes, knowing I'm about to break. I take his free hand and place my rings into his palm, curling his fingers around them and squeezing them tight.

"You're leaving me."

"Christian, you need to look after them for me. I need to spend this weekend as Ana, not your wife. We both need to realise I'm still Ana under all of this shit."

"You're my Ana."

"I gave myself to you, but you don't own me." I whisper to him. "I need you to promise me something. I need you to promise me you wont do anything stupid. Please? I need you safe and I don't want to spend all weekend worrying about you."

I know I am already asking too much of him but I need him to do this for me. He just stares at me, like a rabbit in headlights, with a stunned expression strewn over his tired and damp face.

"And I need you to promise me that you won't contact me."

"W-what? No. No! How will I –"

"Please, don't contact me. Don't call me, text, email… anything. Not unless I contact you first. We need distance."

"I need you with me. I can't do this without you."

"It's going to help us." I promise him even though I have doubts over what I'm saying. I have no idea if this is going to work or whether is going to be the straw that breaks our backs.

"I love you Ana."

"I love you too. That's never changed."

Stretching further into the car he hugs me, pressing my head into his neck as he kisses every part of my face, neck and shoulders. I start to feel my tears escaping, wanting to hold him to me and never let him go.

"Ana, please take care of my heart while you're gone. I'm a broken man without you." Pulling his face away from me moves so he can look me in the eye. "And please come back to me."

I can do nothing but nod, no words in my throat to mumble to him. Bending down he lowers his head to my stomach, kissing him through my dress over and over as he whispers to him.

"I love you. Please take care of Mommy for me, and bring her home to me."

I can't hold it back. It's a free-flowing mess as I break down.

"I love you Ana."

"I need to go." I pull away from him, looking into the mirror ahead of me and nodding my head to Taylor, signalling him to start the car.

"Come home to me."

With one last plea he comes back to my lips, kissing me hard and painfully before pushing back out of the way of my door. I slam it to a close as he walks away from the car.

Without needing me to ask him Taylor starts the car, pulling away from the house slowly and with care, the headlights shining bright down the long drive toward the iron gates at the bottom.

I turn around in my seat, needing to look at him as we pull away. _I need to see him_. I wipe away my tears clouding my vision to see him on the ground, kneeling in the gravel with his head in his hands. His screams break the silence in the air; his painful, chest growling screams piercing my eardrums.

I can't…

I can't stop them as they fall down my cheeks.

I don't want to do this to him – to us. It kills every part of me to do this, but if this is what it is going to take I have to do it. I need to try.

He changed for me when I left him the last time, after things went too far in the early days. He saw the light and changed for me. It forced us back together, both of us realising that this is what we wanted – what we needed. I pray to God it's the same now.

I can't live without him.

As Taylor reaches the gates they part as he punches in the key code, quickly winding up his window again as he pulls away from the house – from our house.

I can still hear his screams, each and every one heart-wrenching. Every inch of my body is urging me to run back and cradle him, soothe his pain and tell him I can cope. It's like a pain I have never experienced, like being stabbed a thousand times over in the same place, harder and sharper each time.

"Taylor –" I stutter, wiping my nose with the back of my hand.

"Yes, Ana?" His warm blues meet mine in the mirror, his own looking watery though it could just be my impaired vision playing tricks on me.

"Can you please turn the radio on?"

I need something black out the screams. I need something to distract me and pull me away from the black hole closing around me, sucking everything I have out of my hold.

_I'm doing this for us_. I repeat to myself. _I'm doing this for all of us._

_I'm doing this for you, Blip_.

I sob on the inside, circling my stomach with my fingers. _I will not let you come into the world and straight into a broken home._


	58. Chapter 58

**Disclaimer:The characters portrayed in this story are those in E L James's Fifty Shades Trilogy, therefore they remain her property. The plot and themes in this story are those of the author. The author is in no way affiliated with James. No copyright infringement intended.**

**BIG APOLOGIES for the delay! This past week has been hell! Blame Shakespeare, Milton and the flu! :(**

**Thank you to everyone who's reading and reviewing! ****R.J,MX, Andrea and Guest (or guests) thank you so much! :)**

**Can I be a pain and ask that if any guests post that do so with some sort of pseudonym or initial? Just so I can refer to you individually and I don't really know if you're the same person or several different people :)**

***ANA RINGS!***

**Okay, so a lot of you have rightfully commented on this debate! I get the impression that a lot of you hated this! I don't know whether you hate Ana for doing this or simply think I'm ridiculous for throwing it in? Either way I take it as a compliment, not a criticism, in that I'm stimulating these emotions in you! I love that you've all interpretated this in a different way! **

**I want to point out that while I'm writing from her POV it doesn't mean I agree with her actions! Far from it! I actually agree with you all but I wanted to explore this side of her. :)**

**I feel like I need to summarise the ring thing for you seeing as it evoked a lot of drama! I don't know if I've explained myself in this chapter, or the next so I will give you the jist: Ana was in no way right for doing what she did. She acted impulsively and without thought for the consequences - she's a lot like Christian in that respect! But be assured she will understand soon enough! In her mind (well sort of) her point was that while she's only gone for three days this time, Christian needs to realise that he could be hanging on to them rings forever if he's not careful! I agree with a lot of you that there is no logic behind this but there isn't meant to be. She's irrational and stupid right now! ****It's all gonna come to a head soon!**

**I just needed to clear this up - I started to reply individually but after so many posts with the same thing coming through I wanted to address you all this way because it's easier, and I'm lazy! :P**

**If you ever think I've not explained something well please pop a review at the bottom and I'll try to justify my reasons and do my best to clear it up for you! :)**

***SONG!* **

**The song mentioned is 'Best of Me' by Michael Buble. Please listen to it or find the lyrics! :) I think it suits the part of the chapter where it's mentioned - hence why I've included it! :)**

**Much Love and looking forward to hearing from you. Sorry if this chapter sucks! Not feeling at my best right now (in fact I feel pretty sh*t) but it'll get better, hopefully! :) x**

* * *

"We'll be fine from here."

With a sharp and frightful tongue Taylor hurriedly dismisses the bellboy. His cold and harsh blue eyes dazzle the younger version of himself into submission, instantly sending him on his way. For a moment he hesitated, with the idea of insisting that he rides up with us to the top floor to escort us to our suite as all hotel personnel should do, but he soon saw where this was going to end up. Taylor has that harsh glare strewn across his face and his persona reeks of 'in a flash you could be on your behind if you don't do as I say' sort of haze.

I huddled behind him as the bellboy shuffled on his toes, backing up into the switchboard and opening the cart onto the floor above reception. He hopped out straightaway, Taylor hitting the button for the doors to close once again and send us on our way. I tried to glance up at the young man as the steel frame closed us in, but I couldn't. I can hardly blink my eyes without feeling like I've just ran a 10K. I know our current state of disarray is enough to raise alarm with anyone – his no-nonsense unforgiving air and my overall mess enough for anyone to rightfully call the cops worried for one of ours safety. I can't begin to imagine how I must look right now but I know my hair is in a state of dishevelment – the curls now almost completely gone and hanging around my shoulders, the pins that are meant to keep the braids in place now dangling by my ears and the previously feathered and cared for ends knotted and frizzy. I can stammer a guess that the plentiful mascara my eyelashes are coated in isn't as waterproof as the tube claims – the stinging in my eyes proof that some of it has ran and smudged around my lower lids. Anyone could easily believe I'm the victim in all of this, that I need protecting, but little would they know that I'm the one who needs to be incarcerated and have the book thrown at me for my tactless stupidity.

I heard him scream for miles and I just allowed them to carry on. Each time Taylor looked up through the rear view mirror at me, or Sawyer twisted in his chair pretending to look for something in the gangway between the two front seats I ignored them, pretending everything was normal while the tears streamed down my cheeks, flooding my lap and definitely enough to fill Lake Michigan twice over. The blaring radio that I begged to be turned up three times and the whooshing of the car propelling into new territory was nowhere near enough to silence his pain. I dug my fingernails into my temples as I forced my palms to cover my ears, just desperate to block him out, desperate to push him away and resist every natural urge in my body. Every single shred of humanity inside me, and whatever early mothering instinct I house was pressing me to shout at them to stop the car so I could run back to him. I would crawl through broken glass to meet his side and cradle him until he stops.

I never wanted to hear that.

I didn't want him to ever go throw that.

I just didn't think.

I should've known better than to run, but all I kept thinking of was that I had to go. I needed to get away and make a stand, prove I'm not for walking over or putting up with shit, but how was _this_ the right choice to make? That stupid fucking voice in my head coxed me into thinking this was for the best – that he wouldn't mind as much as he did.

_Why the fuck did I listen?_ I should've known what would happen. I should've known that he would revert back to little Christian in front of my eyes. I wasn't expecting what I saw but deep down I should've known that going about this is such a stupid, fucking sneaky way would destroy him more than his misguided, caring and stupid way of trying to protect me ever would.

The cart launches us up higher, lifting us straight to our desired floor without interruptions and bringing an end to this horrific night.

We drove for almost three hours all in all, the unexpected traffic building up on the freeway as we emerged into Portland put a full stop on any hopes of faster speeds and cutting the journey down to a minimum two hours and ten minutes – mine and Christian's record timing without air travel. It was silent throughout, bar the radio that none of us were taking any particular interest in. Sawyer broke the air briefly to utter from drivel to Taylor but he soon quietened down, fading off into a whisper and eventually staring out of the window for the remainder of the ride. I pulled my head from knees as I heard him, catching the glance that Taylor shot over to him from the driver's seat – he meant business. His eyes narrowed to a pinpoint and instantly silenced any attempts of conversation, and quashed any hopes of making the tedious experience the slightest bit more bearable. I would have been grateful for distracting, meaningless bullshit talk, anything that I could force my attention to so I could forget everything. I just want to forget...

"Taylor."

His sharp and straight to the point tone, differing from the man I've come to admire over these past few days, breaks the quietness. His voice is loud and echoic, hard on my ears after the silence it has endured externally over the past hour or so.

I push my eyes from the floor, twisting my head up to him and taking in the cause behind his sudden outburst. Unsurprisingly he remains fixed to the spot he jumped to upon entry of the elevator – his feet shoulders width apart, several suitcases beside his legs and my holdall in hand, the other pushed up to his ear with his phone glued to his face.

"Yes… Yes, I'll make sure of it… No."

I shift on my toes, my painful arches excelling a groan from my mouth. In an instant he glares down at me, making me feel about two feet tall for a second before the look on my face softens the one on his. I stand minute compared to him with my heels now tucked into the crook of my arm, the blood-stained heels evidence in itself that I should never allow anyone else to choose my footwear and that I'll never wear them again. Taylor's similar in height to Christian, maybe a tad smaller but his much broader shoulders give off a more intimidating persona.

"Christian?"

I whisper, mouthing to him my question of the caller, a simple nod of his head confirming my instincts. I would normally roll my eyes in annoyance of his constant checking up on me but right this second grateful for it. I'm grateful that he still cares, that he hasn't naturally turned to hating me for this because, after all, it's what I deserve.

"I will sir. Every four I will make contact… As expected."

The predominantly one sided conversation continues until he pulls the phone from his ear, gesturing it down to me but I reject his offering. I raise my hand to push it away, turning my head and shaking it violently from side to side.

I've put him through enough this evening. He's suffered more than any man should ever endure, and the last thing he needs right now is me torturing more than I already have.

Nodding his head briefly he pulls the phone back up to his ear, his voice now a thousand times quieter and inaudible to my solemn ears. I'm able to shut out his side of the phone call, concentrating on the dial ahead ticking by as we pass each floor. I wonder for a second how the hell he managed to get signal in here until that pain made an unwelcome return. Each time the realisation and shock of what I've done returns to me I have that beastly, sharp, stabbing pain pierce through my side. It's the mirror of the pain pulsating in my temples and the heaviness of my chest. This is my internal torture, the punishment for my delinquent actions. It's my body's way of punishing me for what my mind can't do. While my mind can relive those sounds, those screams and cries on a constant loop, it can't cause me any physical pain.

I press my eyes shut, taking deep and long breaths to try to combat my inner turmoil as the elevator finally opens once again and sets us onto the top floor of the building with a jolt. I jump out quickly, the differing carpet of the hallway soft under my toes but barely a flicker in my mind as I wait for Taylor to join my side. I gesture for him to give me some of the bags to carry but he refuses, continuing to struggle on his own and eventually stepping out and heading off in the direction of the suite he's rented for me. I follow close behind him, frequently looking over my shoulders as if something's following me – that burning in the back of head something for concern – but nothing's there. I stand alone metres behind my saviour and guardian.

I freeze to the ground as he stops in front of the hotel door, temporarily setting down the luggage onto the floor as he attempts to slot the key card into the door. My mouth falls open as I examine his movements, unable to stammer any noise for a while. I creep closer to the door as he steps inside and quickly brings in all of the bags.

"Is this where I'm staying?" I mumble to him, my tired voice croaky and shattered but managing to expel my uttering.

"Is there a problem? This was the first available suite we could hire at such short notice."

Fixed between the steel divider separating the suite and the sanctuary of the hall I peak my head around the door, taking in a reluctant glance of the room inside. Everything on the inside is exactly as it was the last time I was here, though I shouldn't have expected anything to have changed in the four months since my last stint here, at the Heathman.

I shake my head at him, the notion setting aside my issues with staying in this room and pushing forward that I'm grateful for the help he has offered me already. The last thing he needs is me kicking up and fuss, demanding a different suite because of my own personal dilemma about staying in _our _suite – the suite we've always stayed in.

Unwillingly I step inside, holding back the storm inside as I begin a further inspection of my surroundings. I take in the couches we lounged around on and did… _inappropriate_ things on. I take in the fireplace I stared straight into as I worried over my father's safety. Absolutely nothing has changed – the upholstery and the level of care to detail the same as ever, the only difference this time is the circumstances that have brought me here. The last time I was worried whether I was about to deprived of another father, whether he would ever wake up and talk to me again, and now I'm worried whether I'm about to lose the one person who means the most to me because I pushed him away. I'm worried that he'll never want to talk to me again. I'm worried that this is it.

"Taylor, I can deal with that." I urge him, unable to strife the energy to unpack my things but sure as hell not willingly to put him through that task.

"Are you sure?"

"Absolutely." I nod my head, dropping my shoes and purse to the ground just inside the door.

"Is there anything I can get you?"

"You don't happen to have a time machine do you?" I roll my shoulders to add to my sarcasm which also hides a layer of truth behind it. I do wish I had a time machine, because I would go back to Mia's bedroom and force a fucking smile to my face and move on from all of this.

"My expertise lay simply with clothing and food."

"No I'm fine. Where's Sawyer?"

Twisting my body to look around the room I question the appearance of the second of my guardians. I remember him walking into reception with us, unloading the car and placing the bags at front desk alongside us as we checked in, but since then he's been M.I.A.

"He's sorting out arrangements for the suite next door. We only had time to organise this one."

"He doesn't need to do that. This suite is big enough for all us!" I fling my arms in the direction of the second bedroom to the left of the sitting area on the understanding that it houses two additional beds. "And I'd be grateful for the company if I'm truthfully honest."

"Mrs Grey –" pausing for a second he composes himself, correcting and continuing with his fingers rising up to his collar to loosen the tie tight around his neck. "Ana. Luke will be staying in the suite next door. I'll be taking the other bedroom. You won't be alone."

"Thank you." I fight back the heartfelt plea of thanks, biting hard onto my bottom lip to stop myself from breaking down again. "Thank you for everything. I really shouldn't have dragged you in on this."

"Ana, we would have come with you anyway. He would've made sure of that."

"Do you think I've done the right thing?" I ask him, needing another view on this and preferably from someone who has his own thoughts on the matter, ones that aren't going to be differ and be influenced by his surroundings. "Do you think I've fucked this up?"

"It's not my place –"

"I'm asking you for your opinion. I can handle it."

"Ana. It really doesn't matter what my opinion is, or what Luke's is or anyone. If you can say that in your heart this is what you needed to do, then that's all that matters in the end."

Unable to reply, or contemplate his truthful and deflective response, I just nod my head, grabbing my purse from the floor and turning on my battered heel, murmuring something about heading for a shower and then going to bed. I'm not sure if that's what came out of my mouth but I couldn't care less right now. I'm pretty much numb from the neck down, void of all feeling bar the emptiness and skin-tearing agony ripping me open from the inside out.

I shuffle all the way over to the bedroom, my bedroom, and shut the door behind me to seclude myself from real life.

I don't remember heading into the en-suite or switching on the shower, or even undressing but instead I just found myself huddled up in the corner of the cubicle, my arms pulling my knees up into my chest, my head resting against the glass wall beginning to steam up around me as I began to gently rock back and forth. The tiles are cold underneath me and the water is bordering on freezing but I don't care. I just rock and rock as the water beats down on me, drowning me and results in the wash of repulsive hair, tears and makeup swimming down my face.

I let it all out, everything I've been holding in, as I begin to scream.

I'm just as bad as the rest of them – fucking bitch troll, the crack whore and every other bastard that has let him down.

_I'm just like Elena_.

I'm no better than her. I've turned into the person who I hate the most! She abused the man I love – she put him through years after years of physical abuse only for him to supposedly find solace with me, but I've gone and filled her place. I've filled her place with emotional uproar. I'm putting him through hell. I shouldn't be allowed to this. I shouldn't be doing this to him. My Christian doesn't deserve this. So what if he made one, two or three tiny mistakes, it wasn't worth this! And now I've gone and fucked everything up a million times over.

_It's over… I've ruined this._

How could I possibly think that leaving him – abandoning him! – would help us?

How could I believe that I could just leave without pain and suffering, to return to him as a new woman with less stress and anger circling overhead?

_It's all bullshit_. I'm such a fucking idiot for thinking that I can just waltz back to him and we can be the Mr and Mrs Grey who just moved into the big house on the sound, can't keep out of each other's pants and are madly in love.

As I try to make sense and logic out of my decisions I fall further into despair and confusion. I know I've fucked up, but what can I do? I can't go back there because that'll just worsen the situation, but staying here is going to be hell for both of us.

_I don't know if I can hack this._

I keep trying to tell myself everything will be okay, that this is just a bump in the road but there is no denying that this isn't just a small bump. This is a fucking apocalypse with my name written all over it.

* * *

I don't know how long I sat in the shower but I know it was long enough to exhaust every drop of water from my eyes, and enough for every inch of my skin to shrivel up like a prune.

I eventually mustered the strength to switch off the bitterly cold water, crawling on my knees out of the cubicle and into the arms of the solemn bath robe in the corner of the room. I avoided myself in the mirror, unable to look myself in the eyes and face the bitch that would stand before me, partly concerned that I wouldn't recognise the person staring back or worse – that I had actually morphed into my own worst nightmare.

I didn't bother drying myself off or even wrapping a towel around my hair to quench some of the excess trickling onto the luxurious carpets coveting the floors below, instead making my way straight across the room and launching myself under the covers of the bed.

I just lay there, staring up at the ceiling for a short while before turning over to the bedside counter to make a grab for my purse. As I reach across with my left hand I finally see the damage of my senseless actions – my bare finger standing out amongst the rest, empty of all recognisable features of my once perfect marriage. The only thing that lingers behind is the slight indentation of my wedding band. I roll my fingers against one another, the emptiness alien to me after just getting used to wearing it. I bring my hand back to my lap as I knot my fingers together, the gut-wrenching pain coming back as I recall his face. The pain etched across his face as I pulled them off, forced them into his palm and clamped his fingers around them. I rub my finger repeatedly until it's red raw – the area where my rings should be angry and sore to touch, almost to the point of broken skin and bloodshed.

I shouldn't have taken them off. I shouldn't have taken off…

I mouth this to myself over and over unable to think of any reason as to why I did this. What was I thinking?

_You weren't! You weren't thinking at all!_

How could I do that? I have no reason for doing that to him…

_You wanted him to change. You needed him to know that he needs to change for you._ _That's your reason right there!_

He knows that!

He told me he knows that he needs to change! He wants to change!

I scream out inside, clutching my stomach with one hand as I force the other to my head – both pains excruciating.

_But now he'll really know! He'll know that you're not going to be his doormat forever…_

"FUCK OFF!"

With anger, pain and fear I thrash around on the bed ridding myself of the covers trapping me in. I punch the mattress hard as I let go, screaming and lashing out – throwing the pillows off the bed and sending them flying around the room.

I scream until I can't hear her anymore, until her stupid fucking remarks are absent and leave my mind. I force out everything from inside me – air, anger and suffering – until I feel nothing. I continue until I can hear only my rapid breathing and my pulse beating hard in my ears.

After a few seconds I sit up, jerking upright with my legs splayed out in front of me. I calm my breathing down to a hasty rhythm as I stare ahead of me facing the destruction that seems to follow me everywhere lately. The pillows I threw have knocked over a lamp and torn a frame off the wall to the left of me. I examine the chaos and shout out the voice on the other side of the locked door, the one calling for me to check my safety and wellbeing. I call back that I'm fine and demand to be left alone, grateful that they comply immediately.

Rubbing my face hard with my hand I lie back against the only remaining pillow on the bed, delving into my purse and pulling out my phone – the item I was initially looking for before I went into a full-blown tyrant attack of the hotel room. I fire up my phone in seconds, opening up my emails and quickly typing out a message to the person who should be next to me right now – to the person who I owe the world to, and the person who doesn't deserve a bitch like me in his life.

* * *

**From: Anastasia Grey**

**Subject: Checking in.**

**Date: 2nd December 2011 05:01:56AM**

**To: Christian Grey**

I'm safe. I got here fine, and in one piece. I just wanted to check in with you.

I am so sorry for this. I know it means nothing, but I am.

I love you so much.

Ana x

* * *

His reply came through immediately.

* * *

**From: Christian Grey**

**Subject: Void.**

**Date: 2nd December 2011 05:02:49AM**

**To: Anastasia Grey**

I'm glad you're okay.

I'm sorry too.

I love you.

C

X

Christian Grey

CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

* * *

**From: Anastasia Grey**

**Subject: Three days…**

**Date: 2nd December 2011 05:04:02AM**

**To: Christian Grey**

… And I'll be home.

Just three days I'll be home. If you'll have me?

Tell me everything is going to be okay? Because right now I can't see that it will be.

Ana x

* * *

**From: Christian Grey**

**Subject: Irresolute.**

**Date: 2nd December 2011 05:06:22AM**

**To: Anastasia Grey**

A lot can happen in three days.

I can't answer that question. I don't think anyone can.

You said you needed this, so do whatever you have to.

Sleep well.

C

Christian Grey

CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

* * *

Closing down my phone I push it to the gap on the bed next to me. I roll onto my side facing it, switching off the lights as I turn.

I fell into a dreary sleep quickly, completely whacked through and through from today's events, well from the past few days to come to think about it!

I fell asleep praying to God that I haven't become my own worst enemy; praying to him that we can save this - praying that I can save this.

* * *

"Jesus!"

Launching myself into him I wrap my arms around his back, pressing him close to me and almost knocking him off his feet as I take him in – as I take in my father.

"Daddy!"

"Whoa, Annie! Give a guy a breather!" With a chuckle he tries to loosen his hold on me, pushing his head away to examine my face.

"I missed you." I whisper to him, quick and full of emotion.

"I missed you too, Annie-bear." Sensing my need for comfort he presses me into him, allowing me to curl around him as his arms cradle me and offer me that much needed Ray Steele embrace I have longed for, for a while.

For just this second in time he is all that matters. For just this second we are the only two people in the world.

"Looks like I've missed out on a lot!"

Releasing for real this time Ray pushes back, adding a gap between us as his eyes instantly fall to my stomach. I tried to conceal it as best I could even though Ray knows I'm pregnant, but since the last time I wore this sweater I've grown considerably – my bump neatly on display and protruding forward from underneath the knitted fabric.

"A little." I shrug, examining my swell.

"You're getting big. I still can't… my head just…" He begins to ramble, a concoction of the same words filtering out in different ways.

"I know." I nod my head in agreement. I know exactly what he's trying to say.

"You're still my little girl Annie." Clasping his hand around mine he lifts it to his mouth, kissing the back of my hand softly. "You will always be my little girl."

"Yeah, but now I'm going to be a Mom… and you're going to be Grandpa!" I break a smile across my face at the thought of Grandpa Ray with a bouncing baby boy on his knee.

"Grandpa?" His eyebrow rises into an arch as he turns away from me, beckoning me into the house and into his living room.

I'm happy to see that he's walking so much better than he was the last time I saw him, those one-to-one physiotherapy classes he's been attending doing their job and helping him a lot.

"You don't like the idea of being called Grandpa?"

"Grandpa's good, but maybe something a little more hip?" A rise smile creeps across his lips as he settles into the armchair nearest to the TV – his armchair.

"I'll get Blip to sort that one out. I'm sure we'll find something you approve of." I smile back to him, lifting my feet from the floor and making myself at home on the couch nearest to him.

"So, you here on your own?"

_Trust Ray Steele to point out the obvious and get straight to the point!_

I wriggle on my cushion, pulling my jacket around me and gaining a few more seconds thinking time.

"No, I have… Erm… Security with me." I offer him my most appropriate response, the idea of announcing that I've been fighting with my husband lately and have just left him seeming to be unsuitable for this time of day.

"You know, I forget that you need those monkeys around you 24/7. But it makes sense, a lot of nut-jobs out there who wouldn't mind taking a chance at some dough!" Without actually saying the words I know what he's getting at. Not even Ray can stomach the thought of Hyde and what happened before. "But, I meant isn't Christian here?"

_I knew what you meant._

"He's… Erm…" I trail off, flickering my eyes around the room to avoid his.

_Think. _

"He's at the hotel." Pressing my eyes to a close as I lie to him, the response coming out before I had time to process it. "He's got a conference call and I just wanted to come over."

"That's good. I would've loved to see the boy though, you sure picked a good one there! But I'm glad you're not on your own."

"I'm sorry –" I correct myself instantly, clearing my throat with a cough. "Christian's sorry that he couldn't make it."

"Ah, the boy works hard. I'm sure you'll both be able to pop over sometime soon? How long are you down for?"

"Until Monday. I have business to see to."

"Well, if you're not too busy for your old man I would love to see both of you before you go." Reaching across Ray takes my hand, shaking it hard within his grip. "How is my son-in-law?"

"Exactly the same as the last time you saw him – two eyes, two ears, a nose and a mouth."

I retort sarcastically, quickly deflecting this conversation and moving off the topic of my marriage before I slip up. "So, did you catch the game the other night?"

I stare off into space as Ray goes off on a tangent, giving me the low down on this season's team and where they went wrong in the last game – apparently they lost by a measly ten points? I smile and nod my head at him where I think appropriate, pretending that I'm actually listening to him but all the while praying that Christian isn't brought up again.

I hate lying to Ray, and everyone else around me, but it's for the best – at least until I know whether everything will be okay or not, right now the latter seeming the most probable response to that important question.

* * *

It's been 19 hours and about twenty-eight minutes since I left Seattle.

I've made contact with Christian a few times – in the early hours of this morning before I went to sleep and again first thing as I woke up, then when I had lunch all while checking that he's still talking to me and that he's still… _okay_, if that's the only way to describe this.

I spent all afternoon with Ray, talking and laughing and joking about various things. We talked about Blip and his nursery; about when he first met me when my Mom first plucked up the courage to introduce us, and how he can't wait to meet Blip. I loved being around him and being in my old home. Nothing has really changed since I moved back with him, when husband number three came on the scenes. My bedroom was only ever decorated twice, the last time being when I was no longer interested in fairies and wanted a more suitable theme as a teenager.

The only additions to the house over the years were photographs. On the mantelpiece a line of my yearbook photos sit side-by-side straight up until my college graduation picture at the very end – that's where the cut-off point was, the cut-off of my singleton days. My wedding photographs hang proudly on the wall behind the TV; a series of pictures starting with one of me and Ray before the ceremony, one of my Mom and us all grinning at the camera before hitting the final one of me and Christian, taken shortly after being pelted with confetti and rice. Each one hangs in sparkling silver frames, not a single ounce of dust settling on them as I would have expected by now. But by far my favourite and most treasured picture is the most recent addition, sitting pride of place on the table next to Ray's armchair. On the table where the usual array of newspapers, cups and plate sit hides a small blue picture frame with my Blip inside – a mashed up photo of black, white and grey making up my baby, his grandchild. I began to well up as we spoken about him depth, needing to retreat into the kitchen on the pretence of cooking some lunch for us both knowing that he won't have had a real meal in a while, seeing as Ray doesn't cook - or at least he doesn't cook well!

I loved spending time with him today. I loved being able to spend time with the Dad I rarely get to see, and who isn't enough with just weekly check-ins over the phone. But most of all, I loved hiding away for a few hours. As soon as I stepped inside that house and managed to keep the conversation flowing and way from any Christian talk I was in my element, my mind focused solely on Ray. I was free for the whole time I spent with him, but as soon as I emerged out of the door I was back into the watchful eye of Taylor, reminded and pulled back into reality once more.

I trudged back over to the car sitting on the drive, crawling into the back seat and offering weak smile to them both sitting in the front but only for us to recede back into that much dreaded silence as we drove back to the hotel. With the current shit hovering around like a bad smell, being around them is difficult. With Taylor I feel safe and at ease that he isn't judging me – or at least on the outside he isn't! – but Sawyer and I have had a tempered relationship for a while. I've felt at odds with him since the Hyde business, feeling overly guilty for having placed him in that awkward situation but more so for the outburst in my office the other day, and now for dragging his sorry ass into this latest drama. I felt the need to apologise to them both again, saying sorry for putting them in the middle of all of this. Taylor took it on the chin, reminding me that my apologies aren't needed but Sawyer remained hard, giving nothing away as he continued to stare out at the road ahead.

As soon as I rolled into the suite I recoiled back into a daze, not comfortable with my surrounding and everything difficult to remember. I ate whatever room-service Taylor ordered, trusting his choices on the understanding that he knows the prescribed do's and don'ts that have come to be my regimented life as of late. He did a pretty good job from what I can tell, but in all honesty it could have been a plate of dust and I would have eaten it. I was just desperate to force whatever it was down my throat and hurry back into my bedroom and retreat for the evening.

After a very lonely and quick shower I took extra care and attention into making sure that I was super dry before heading to sleep – the wet bed linen and my runny nose a pre-warning that I need to start taking better care of myself, no matter what. Blip is the one that matters. It took a long time before I deemed myself dry enough to call it night, finally throwing the towel in and crawling into bed. As I did the previous night I open up my emails, ending the night the way I need to and the way it should be.

* * *

**From: Anastasia Grey**

**Subject: Goodnight.**

**Date: 2nd December 2011 23:39:01PM**

**To: Christian Grey**

I'm about to go to sleep. I just wanted you to know that I'm okay and that I'm thinking about you.

I hope that you're doing okay.

With all my love,

Ana x

* * *

Without fail his reply hits my screen quickly, unsurprising that he would still have his phone on him and that he is still awake.

I wonder briefly if he's gone anywhere without his phone, the answer being rhetorical and obvious.

* * *

**From: Christian Grey**

**Subject: Goodnight Ana.**

**Date: 2nd December 2011 23:41:03PM**

**To: Anastasia Grey**

You are always on my mind.

I hope you had a good afternoon with your father.

You shouldn't worry about me.

Have a good night's sleep.

C

Christian Grey

CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

* * *

**From: Anastasia Grey**

**Subject: I will always worry about you.**

**Date: 2nd December 2011 23:44:59PM**

**To: Christian Grey**

I love you Christian.

No matter what happens know that I love you.

I'm sorry.

Ana x

* * *

His empty words, and the shortness of his reply, replayed in my mind over and over as I waited patiently for his response to my last message.

I sat there for a few minutes constantly checking my phone every twenty seconds to see if a message had come through but my phone hadn't bleeped to notify me, but each time I was kept waiting.

The three minutes after that rolled into thirty, then into an hour, and then two until eventually my body gave up.

I waited and waited for the reply that never came.

* * *

_Christian? _

I cry out from the deepest part of my chest as I take to my chair, staring down the hallway to the shadowy figure blurring into the background. The only thing that tells me he's still here are his shoes clattering against the floor.

_Christian? Is that you? _

I ask the same question over and over, begging for a response from him as he continues to circle the floor at the very end of the corridor. I try to move out of my seat so I can edge closer to him, convinced that it is him down there, but I'm tied down. There's some sort of metal casing around my chest, completely covering my middle and securing me into my chair.

_I don't… I don't like it…_

Panting and writhing around like an animal I try to break free and cut the ties surrounding me, needing to break them and reach forward. I need to see him and make a grab for the figure looming in the darkness, tempting and teasing me.

As soon as I feel the ties coming closer and closer to breaking free – the band finally loosening its hold – I tense up, the shadow disappearing into thin air.

He's swallowed up into the darkness leaving me on my own, tied down and in the midst of the nightmare.

_Christian? _

I call out to him again, jerking my head from side to side to look for him, starting to panic as I can't see him anywhere.

"You promised me you wouldn't leave!"

In a blink of an eye I find his face forcing itself within inches of mine. His dark and sultry eyes glaring into mine as he spits out venom to me, screaming into my face – terrifying me – and stripping me of the man I once knew…

"No!"

Bolting upright I'm pulled from my slumber, my breathing panicked, racing and irregular, my heart pounding hard against my chest. For a second or two I'm unable to move, every muscle in my body petrified into immobility until it breaks, enabling me to lift my heavy arms to my head and allowing me to cover my eyes and shield me as I fall backwards onto the bed.

"Just a dream… it was just a dream." I remind myself, my breathing coming down from its race and regulating itself along with my pulse.

I lie still for a little while to make sure that I'm not about to flake out as soon as I move. Gathering the energy from somewhere I manage to swing my legs off the bed, bringing them to the floor as I heave myself to my feet, propelling my feet and body in the direction of the bathroom.

The urge to pee didn't hit me until I saw the toilet, only then the struggle to shimmy out of my pants and hold it in becoming intolerable. I curse Blip every time I think I'm about to pee myself, knowing that sooner or later it's going to happen and whatever dignity I still house will fly straight out of the window.

Finishing up and splashing some water over my tired looking face I pull myself away from the mirror, feeling sick of looking at the mess in front of me. My eyes are wide and red around the outside, my nose is stuffy and lighting up like Rudolph's and my skin is pale – too pale! I look positively gaunt, as if I haven't eaten in weeks even though I have. I've rarely missed a meal and on the off chance I have, I've made up for it during the day. I don't like looking at myself at the best of times but right now I can't think of anything more hideous to stare at.

Shuffling back into the bedroom I'm resigned to the fact that it's probably not the best idea that I head straight back to sleep, knowing that another nightmare is probable and likely. Instead I curl up on the edge of the bed checking through my phone again to see if a new message has magically appeared, both disappointed and upset to find nothing.

_I deserve it. I deserve the silent treatment._

Determined not to punish myself anymore with constantly checking my phone every five minutes I close it down and shove it away in my purse – the one that has remained at my bedside since my arrival. I pull out the contents onto the bed, unable to push my phone into it with the amount of shit inside. I push away the crap I don't need until I come across something unexpected and forgotten.

I trace my fingers over the folded up plain white envelope that was stuffed into the small compartment of my purse. Unfolding it in my hands it all comes flooding back – Christian handing it to me just before I fucked up and made the biggest mistake ever. He asked me read it, but only if I wanted to. Its existence had completely slipped my mind since I shoved it into my bag as we hit the parking lot of the hotel, moments before I hopped out of the car.

With shaking fingers I flip it over in my hands examining every corner of the envelope which gives nothing away. It's heavier than I expected, the contents unknown but important – I know that much. The only area of significance on the outside are the three block-capital letters etched in black ink indicating who the recipient is.

**_ANA_**

Gripping hard on to the corners I turn it over once more, the need to tear it open building up inside me with anxiety and reluctance.

What if I don't want to read this? What if it's something bad?

A million different outcomes flash through my mind in the space of ten seconds until I get a grip and splice my finger under the top right corner, prising apart the sealed edge and uncovering the contents.

Lifting the lid I pull out the papers from the inside – a wad of multiple papers folded over and stuffed into the flimsy paper casing. I unfold them slowly, shocked beyond compare to see that each and every page is full of writing – Christian's handwriting: his elegant but rushed scrawl on covering the length and width of each one.

_Fuck._

I flick through them, counting at least twelve or thirteen pages minimum in my hold. No wonder he said he worked all night – this could easily take all day to think out and write! I skim the first page before settling back to the beginning to take my time over each and every word.

* * *

_To my perfect, infallible and beautiful Ana,_

_I need to make one point clear from the outset. My love and respect for you has never changed. It will never change, no matter what life throws at us. I can wholeheartedly understand why you left me the way you did yesterday. My actions have been disrespectful, cruel and unjustifiable. I do NOT deserve a second, third or fourth chance from you – I have already fucked up too many times to remember so I wouldn't judge you in the slightest for telling me to go fuck myself and move on. You shouldn't have to deal with any of this – not Elena, my family or me for that matter. I should be protecting you and cherishing you, not angering and hurting you. I am unreservedly sorry for this. Please, Ana, know that I am sorry for this. I will do anything to prove to you how sorry I am._

_I know this is too much to ask but I hope that you decide to offer me a shred of hope by choosing to read this. I cannot, and will not, force you to read this – how can I if you've already made the decision not to? I pray that you will, allowing me the opportunity to talk to you and fill me with the slightest of hopes that we have a chance of getting back to the way things were._

_As I'm sure you can imagine its alien for me to write anything by hand. We both know full well that the only time I bother to pick up a pen is to sign my name to a check, contract or greetings card, so to sit here hand writing this letter to you is something confusing and strange. I can imagine you're confused by this decision as well. It would've been a ton easier to sit at my desk typing out a calculated and thought out response to you, but I refuse to do this. I would've spent hours locked away working on this to only delete it all afterwards and deny myself the opportunity to spend time with you. By far my main reason behind doing this is because I don't want to hide behind a screen! I want this to personal – something between us and no one else! I want intimacy with you and right now this is the only way I can possibly achieve this. It hit me hard reading your email today – it was flooded with anger and pain (evident from the outset) but at the same time it was empty. I had to check who had sent it multiple times, convincing myself that it can't have been from you – that wasn't my Ana. Nothing about that email told me it was from my Ana and I soon realised that it was the product of my actions and behaviour. I deserved your cold and painful message. I deserve it all. _

_I've already spent the best part of an hour trying to begin this letter to you, finding myself frequently distracted with getting up to check that you're okay – each time you have turned, rolled onto your back or whimpered I felt compelled to check on you to make sure you're not in pain or having a bad dream. I'm grateful that each time I have glanced up you are still sound asleep. _

_Ignoring the obvious I couldn't be happier right this second. I have always loved watching you sleep. I could easily spend the rest of my life watching you sleep because you are my precious sleeping beauty. You are so beautiful Ana. Right now you're curled up into a ball, lying on your left side with the duvet pulled up high under your chin. I cannot begin to describe how thankful I am that you're sleeping, more so that you're on my side of the bed. I wish I was lying beside you but to know that you're breathing in my smell (something you're always talking about) is comforting. My only hope is that it begins you comfort, not pain or sadness. I want to be in your thoughts and dreams but I want them to be filled with happier times and not memories of the shit that has happened over the past week or so. I want you to be happy. I want nothing more in life than to keep you happy and it hurts me so much to know that I am the cause behind your misery. It kills me to be the villain is this because I promised you I would treat you like the angel you are. I never wanted to hurt you. I would gladly end my own life for you if it would put an end to your unhappiness. I don't know how to make things right again but I hope that by apologising again it may help. I will apologise every day for the rest of our lives together, until I take my last breath, if it might lead you to forgive me for being such a cruel bastard to you._

_I know that when you read this (if you do) I will not be with you. If anything I will make sure that I'm not with you to ensure that I do not hamper your thoughts or twist your true feelings over any of this. I only want you to read this when you are ready, preferably when you're not angry or upset to the level you have been and instead when you feel like Ana again, and not the monster I have created. While I'm not with you right this second I want you to know that I am always with you. Whether you're across town at work, with Kate or whether you're sleeping in a world of your own I want you to know that I am always with you. I am always with you Ana._

_None of this is planned so I'm sorry if some of it, or all of it, doesn't make sense – that and it's four in the morning so I think that may have an effect on my ability to communicate as effectively and beautifully as you do. I had no desires to reel off each of the points that you made in your email, labelling them in an equally formal manner but I have no idea of how else to tackle this. I numbered the points accordingly to avoid confusion (I have your email with me right now. I printed it off and kept in my jacket) but I have no idea if any of this makes sense or has any meaning behind it. It's just my offering to you – my sincerest and loving apology._

_1) There are no excuses for the way I have spoken to you. I cannot even try to justify my actions because it would be foolish and childish to do so. You deserve more than cheap excuses. The truth is that I should NEVER have spoken to you in that way! I was more than wrong to take my anger towards the person I hate the most onto the person who means the world to me. You're my world Ana. I NEVER wanted to hurt you. NEVER! I regret every single word that I said to you and I am sorry from the very bottom of my heart. I know it's far too late to apologise to you but I need to. I am sorry. I shouldn't have tried to make out that you are stupid or that you should change your attitude. You should NEVER change who you are, for me or anyone. It was wrong for me to say that. I love you exactly the way you are. I love you for your mind, body and soul. _

_2) Blip is OUR child! If anything, at this precise moment in time, he is more yours than he is mine! I would never try to suggest that he is only mine. He is yours Ana! I would say that your thoughts on this and more so that you could think I would get rid of you after his birth are ridiculous but I don't want to upset you more than I already have, although I hope that you said this in the heat of the moment and do not actually believe this. I will be more than ashamed in myself if my behaviour has led you to this idea. I would never in a millions years try to use OUR baby against you. You are the one who I owe my life to. You are giving us something incredible. You alone are doing something no one else will – you are bringing OUR flesh and blood into this world._

_3) I cannot apologise enough for taking my anger over Elena and her fucking mess out on you. I am kicking myself for doing that to you! You have enough to deal with regarding that fucking bitch, me adding to that is wrong and makes me more of a bastard than normal. Of course I know that you had no idea about all of this - that was never in question! It is NOT your fault that she went behind our backs and roped someone into doing her fucking dirty work. It was cruel for me to try and pass blame onto you – this was MY fault, not yours! I am the reason she is fucking with us, me alone! I did read the emails you found and to say I was shocked to find what had occurred is unsuitable, simply because nothing to do with that bitch shocks me. I was concerned how she had used Wilkes – until this point I had never put her down for blackmail. I am proud that you stood up to me and pursued this. As much as it pains me to say this I wouldn't have thought to check Wilkes's emails. I never thought Elena would be so blasé to do this so openly. I guess it's just proof that I do not know her as well as I once thought I did._

_4) Your point is well and truly taken over Grey Publishing. Grey Publishing is YOUR company Ana. This has never changed and it was crude of me to try to take over and make out that you're not capable of dealing with issues. You are more than capable – you've proved this many times however I do understand exactly how frustrating this must be. I have been giving off mixed signals, but let me make this clear – it is YOURS. For the time being it is in my name but my intention has always been to hand it over to you. Right from the beginning – when you started working for SIP – it was always my intention for it to be yours. I had (and still have) no interests in publishing – it is an odd choice considering the various other companies I have brought. You are the reason, the only reason behind my decision to purchase the company. I know how upsetting it must be to have on one respect me telling you that you are in charge to then to go back on my word in a moment's notice. I promise you, my beautiful wife, that as soon as we hit the year anniversary of buying SIP I will sign the papers over to you. As soon as the clock hits twelve it will be yours. I promise you._

_4.A) I was shocked and appalled to find out that you were prevented from carrying out a task of that nature. I stress to you that I had no idea that there was some sort of hold against you being able to carry out this type of task. I have never made a point of preventing you from doing this, if anything I have told them to stop coming to me over such trivial matters when you are the one in charge. I do not blame you for disbelieving this after everything I have done but I swear on Blip's life that I never told them this. The only positive I can draw from this was that I was made aware of your whereabouts. If it wasn't for your IT manager calling me, asking for permission to allow you to continue, I would have had no idea where you were. I was relieved to find out that you were secure and, at least to the best of my knowledge, safe. I was a wreck when you switched your phone off – I had no way of knowing where you were or if you were even alive! Ana, I don't want to lecture you but you're in the public eye now, there are a ton of people who would happily jump at the chance of blackmail through kidnap – because they know I would pay out any demand to have you back. I would give up everything to have you safe. Please Ana, my only request is that you never do that again. Please, do not shut me out again, at least not where your safety is concerned. I trust you implicitly to not do anything reckless (ignoring the car business!) it is others around you that I do not trust. I want you safe. I will do whatever it takes to keep you safe._

_5) Again, I should NEVER have sent Taylor to you. It was disgusting, immoral and downright stupid for me to do this. I should have been the one there. There are no excuses for this. At time I thought it would be better if you didn't have to face me but little did I know what their arrival would do. I didn't use the brain I was born with. Ana, please, I am begging you to believe me when I tell you I am sorry. You know I would never put you or the baby at risk. I wouldn't have allowed them to lay a finger on you – I just wanted you home, in whatever means they had to but I would never allow any man or woman to touch you. I want more than anything to tell you the reason I needed you home so urgently but I can't – not this way. I refuse to tell you any other way than in person, but I will tell you. You need to know why I was scared shitless and why I needed you home, and where I was when you got home. I will tell you. I will tell you everything if you will let me._

_6) Ana, while I accept your apology I need to stress to you that you shouldn't be the one apologising. Your reasons for doing what you did are completely justifiable. I have been a fucking bastard to you and I'm so sorry for hurting you. I know I'm repeating myself but I am. I will scream it a thousand times if needs be! I had no idea that my actions were hurting you so badly. It sounds ridiculous and stupid but that is exactly what I am – I'm a stupid motherfucking prick! I could easily hit myself for being so stupid over these things. Ana, I do not expect you to be like me – I would walk the Earths to prevent that from happening! I love you for who you are, for every part of you. I will NEVER call it a day. I will NEVER end our marriage. I am married to you and I devote myself to you in every way. I will do everything I can to make this up to you._

_7) You cannot imagine how much it terrifies me to think of you alone, hurt or in trouble in the middle of nowhere with no means of contacting me. It is my worst nightmare. I don't want you to be alone, ever! But now it scares me more that you are concerned about driving. I should have seen what it would do to you. I had no idea that you would be scared to drive. It kills me to think of you scared of being in control. I promised you that I would do everything in my power to keep you safe, initially I thought this was the way to do so but evidently it's not. It sounds ridiculous to ask you this, but please humour me – can we come to some sort of compromise? Now that I know the problem I want nothing more than to resolve it and make life easier for you, but at the same time my need to know that you're safe hasn't changed. My proposal is that you drive when you have someone else with you. Whether it's me, one of the security team or family – it could be the Queen of fucking England for all I care! I want someone with you at all times just so I know that you are not on your own. I hate to ask this of you, considering everything, but I need you safe. I need both of you safe._

_8) I have given you reason to believe otherwise but believe me, we are equals. I swear on your life and Blip's life that I have never intentionally treated you this way. I have never seen you as an employee – even if you had of agreed to come work at GEH I would never have seen you as someone working under me! As far as I'm concerned you work for yourself, no one else. I know I have treated you appallingly and I apologise with all of my heart. I never want you to feel belittled or childlike again. NEVER! I will gladly take a beating if I ever make you feel that way again. Our relationship may have started with my intentions of making you a sub but that is not our relationship now! I have always wanted more from life, I just never realised how much more I wanted until I met you. You changed my world from the second I saw you and I am in awe of you. I stand proud at your side and over the moon when you introduce me as your husband. I am yours Ana. I am only yours. I have never been anyone else's and I never will. You have accepted me for my past and now you are my present and my future. My life is not worth living if you are not at my side._

_9) I do not blame you in the slightest for not wanting to talk to me in person. I can tell you a million times that the way I acted was disgusting and it would never come close to describing my actions. I have been inappropriately cruel and unfair to you. You should be allowed to explore who you are without me putting a hold on you. I made a vow to support you in your decisions and now I've been a prick in being the cause behind your inability to do this. I feel sick knowing this. I blamed Elena for a long time but it's me – it's my problems rearing their ugly head yet again! After all this I have tried to protect you from my past and now you're being dragged into it any way! I NEVER want you to feel that you can't talk to me, NEVER! I want you to always feel that you can come to me over anything, anything at all no matter how trivial you think it might be! I remember what it's like to have no voice and I feel unreservedly horrible for putting you through that. You deserve so much better than what I have given you. You deserve better than me._

_10) No reason I can give you will justify me coming into our room last night and disturbing you. It was wrong for me to try and hold you and pretend that nothing had happened. I was so scared when you left – I had no idea where you were gone or whether you had any intentions of coming back. For a second I thought that was it, that I had fucked up beyond belief and you had left me for good. I wouldn't blame you for doing just that but it would kill me if you did. I want you in my arms. As I write this I want nothing more than to take you in my arms and never let you go. It hurt me when you rejected this morning in the bathroom. I honestly felt as if someone had ripped my heart out of my chest. You are the only person I have ever allowed into my heart and to have you turn me away is like a bullet straight through me. I understand your reasons, wanting to protect yourself, but I can't hide how much it hurts to be on the receiving end. I guess I now have a better idea of what you went through when I couldn't allow you to touch me._

_I love you more than anything. _

_My love for you grows with each day and I want you to feel the same. I want you to love me and forgive me but I can't force that from you. In my mind I know that you love me but my heart is telling me otherwise – it's telling me that my behaviour is enough to turn you off me for good. If I had gone through half the shit you have I wouldn't know what to feel anymore. I wouldn't be able to function – I would retreat into seclusion and never want to leave. I am mesmerised at your ability to carry on. You are something else._

_I never wanted to hurt you. Please, please believe me Ana. _

_You are my world. You are my reason for waking up in the morning. You are my only reason to stay alive. Without you I am nothing._

_I pray to God that you will find it in your heart to forgive me or at least allow me to make this up to you. Our marriage means so much to me. Life is worthless if you are not my wife and at my side. I came alive the day you agreed to become my wife and my world will end the day we part ways. My only wish is that if we are ever apart from one another it is a short amount of time. I cannot bear to be away from you for any length of time. _

_I wouldn't be surprised if you have already figured this out but I have added a few new songs onto your iPod – into your favourite's playlist. There's one song I need you to listen to, it's called 'Best of Me'. This is my song to you. Every line means so much. Please listen to it, it explains a lot._

_I love you. I am forever your apologetic, stupid, irrational and unworthy husband._

_I am yours._

_Christian_

_xxxxxxx_

* * *

I sit dumbfounded by his letter, my only reaction being the multitude of tears trailing down my face and collecting on the papers in my hand.

I turn over the next page, more still to come, but before I can even begin to continue I leap from the bed and jump across the room. I collapse onto my hands and knees on the floor and rummage quickly through my open suitcase, throwing clothes left, right and centre in a desperate search for my iPod. I know I asked Gail to pack it for me! I start to grow agitated until I find it right at the moment of the case, hiding away in the corner.

_He wants me to listen to this. He needs me to._

Hastily I shove the headphones into my ears and switch it on, immediately hitting my playlist and skimming through the list until I hit the one I need. It springs to life in my ears, the soft melody from a piano seeping through my mind until the dulcet tones of a familiar voice trembles into existence and starts crooning softly and sweetly, serenading to me and me alone.

I rise from the floor, moving back to the bed so I can read through his letter again while listening to his chosen song. The words meaning so much more to me now, and lyrics fleeting through my mind are stirring an abundance of mixed emotions inside me.

_No one will ever touch me more, and I hope that in return I might have saved the best of me for you..._

I can barely make out his writing as I sob, the tears coming down thick and fast as I hit the song to repeat and force it to continue on an endless loop.

_Oh, Christian…_

Reaching the end of the fourteenth page, as I did before, I calm myself so I can carry on and read the last remaining page that I never got round to.

I iron out the crease with my fingers, lifting the paper higher to my face as I try to make out his words.

* * *

_This is in addition to my letter to you. _

_I need to make myself explicitly clear when I tell you that Grey Publishing is yours. So, my beautiful Ana, this is my declaration to you. This outlines my intentions, and I will adhere to every detail within this as well as any additional requests that you want to include._

_I add that this is not legally binding. I have not had a lawyer approve or draw this up, therefore this is not a legal document. I am sure that you are aware that in my eyes anything written and signed is sacred. If I sign my name to something I am prepared to uphold any details or obligations within it._

_I, CHRISTIAN TREVELYAN GREY, hereby agree that as of DECEMBER 1ST 2011 I will sign over fifty per cent (one equal half) of the company, GREY PUBLISHING LTD. of Seattle, WA, to my wife, ANASTASIA ROSE GREY (FORMERLY STEELE). From this date one half of the company will be the sole property of MRS GREY with the remaining half the sole property of MR GREY. _

_This is will remain as such until MAY 14TH 2012, when upon the completion of the listed company being in MR GREY'S possession for one whole year, the remaining fifty per cent will be signed over into MRS GREY'S title, therefore leaving her the sole owner, proprietor and president of GREY PUBLISHING LTD. _

_On the date stated above I, CHRISTIAN GREY, will sign over all rights to this company to you, ANASTASIA GREY, for you to do so as you wish._

_From this date forward I will no longer take an active role within this company. I will resign all tasks, activities and control over to you, with the understanding that I will only become involved when my guidance, help or hand is asked for. I will no longer take it upon myself to decide on any employee, financial or publicity matters. My sole entitlement will be the fifty per cent in my hold until the date aforementioned. I also hereby resign all profitable gains over to you, ANASTASIA, volunteering my financial gain into your title for you to do with as you wish. Whatever choice you decide regarding this I will respect and uphold your decision._

_I will ensure that all parties who will need to be aware of such changes will be contacted directly and promptly, ensuring that they are aware of your control, power and hold over the company. This will result in your ability to do whatever you wish regarding this company without any permission needing to be sort beforehand. From this date forward we are equal partners with an equal share in this company, until I sign full rights to you on MAY 14TH 2012._

_On the event that this declaration is breached you, ANASTASIA, can see fit to do whatever you wish as means of compensation or punishment in relations to myself, this declaration and the company._

_SIGNED:_

_CHRISTIAN TREVELYAN GREY _

_ 1st Dec. 2011_

_ANASTASIA ROSE GREY_

* * *

It hits me like a freight train. A big, heavy, freight train with a 'you really fucked up' sign written proudly on the side for all to see.

Wiping my nose with the back of my hand I stumble off the edge of the bed, throwing the papers onto the mattress behind me and cry out in search of my phone. _I need him. I need him now._

Struggling to catch my breath I fumble around trying to find his number in my contacts list, my inability to remember his number shocking and disconcerting. Scrolling through the list of names I scream out finding his, instantly hitting the call button and pushing my phone to my ear.

I wait as the speaker rings loud compared to the silence of an empty hotel room at 2:39AM.

_Please pick up. Please, please pick up…_

I beg him until finally the outgoing ring cuts out, replaced with a tired voice on the other side.

"Ana?!"

_Oh, thank God…_

"Ana, is that you?" Christian's voice blares to life, repeatedly prompting me to answer him. "Ana, are you there?"

It takes a lot to answer, my voice and mouth numb and unconnected to my mind spurting out an abundance of answers to him.

"Y-yes."

"Thank fuck –" He lets out a heavy sigh from the other side, pushing out a long breath. "Are you okay? Is something wrong?!"

"I need you." I mumble to him, finally the words breaking free. "I need you Christian."

"Ana, is something wrong?" He pleads once more for a direct answer. "Ana, are you okay?"

"No. No I'm not." I start to convulse as I find the battle to hold back my sobs a tough one. "I need you. I can't do this…"

"What do you need?" His tone shifts to frustration and concern in a heartbeat.

"I need you here."

"Okay. I'm coming now. But tell me, are you okay? You're not hurt?"

"I'm okay. I just need to see you."

I sniff loudly, climbing back onto the edge of the bed and reaching for a Kleenex from the box on the bedside counter.

"I'll be there soon, okay? I'm coming down now."

I can hear him as he starts to rush around, the sounds in the background muffled but telling me he's acting in haste.

"How? How are you getting here?"

"I'll take Charlie Tango. I'll be there soon. I promise."

"Be careful. Please?" I beg him unreservedly.

"Always."

Before I can say anything else he shuts off the call, the cold dialling tone my only companion as he leaves me hanging.

The familiar butterflies return to my stomach as I find myself anxious, elated and a little scared at the prospect of seeing him.

The only positive and hope I can stammer is that he's coming here. He's willing to see me and he's coming for me.

* * *

After an hour of pacing the floors and fidgeting I check my phone for the hundredth time, anxious to see if he's called or left a message to at least let me know that he's arrived safe. I panic every time he flies in Charlie Tango, ever since the accident. No matter how many checks she has or how many time he tells me it's safe to fly I get in a fluster thinking that it could happen again – that he could crash and be stranded in the middle of nowhere and…

_I can't think that way!_

_He's okay. I know he is. He's fine and on his way._

I repeat this to myself as I try to settle onto the couch in the sitting area, only to find myself jumping to my feet every time I hear the faintest of sounds until finally, after staring at the door for the best part of half an hour it opens.

The bleep of the key card fires before the door swings open revealing a tired and ashen faced Sawyer entering into the suite. His eyes are half-asleep and look as though they're stinging as he moves to one side, the most important person in my world emerging behind him.

From in his shadow Christian comes in, his face cold, tired and withdrawn. He looks as though he hasn't slept in weeks, the bags under his eyes and the stubble gracing his jaw proof that he hasn't been looking after himself well after only one and a bit days apart. I find myself staring at him as he enters, dropping his holdall to the ground and signalling to a very tired and sheepish Sawyer to leave us alone and return back to his room.

"Ana. Sir." Mumbling and nodding his head he shuffles out of the room, closing the door silently behind him as he leaves.

We stand there for a second or three, immobile and just staring at each other – neither of us willing or able to say anything. I fold my arms around my chest tight, pulling my sweater closer to me and trying to regain some of the warmth I had before seeing him again.

Shrugging out of his jacket and tossing it onto the one of the couches he stands there in just his t-shirt and jeans, an outfit he must have thrown together in seconds without any care or attention – the t-shirt inside out.

"C-Christian!"

Pounding over to him I launch myself into his chest, flinging my arms around him and unleashing everything I have into a frenzy of crying, apologising and muttering how much of a fucking idiot I have been.

I cling to him, grabbing his t-shirt hard and clenching my fingers into his body as I try to gain some sort of reaction from him, only one of his arms wrapped around me and holding me in place while the other remains fixed to his side.

"Ana –" Sighing, he pulls out of my hold, forcing his hand to my shoulder to prise me away from him.

I reluctantly let go, pushing back onto my heels and stare up at him. I make to question him or continue with my battering of apologies but he silences me, pressing his gentle fingertips to my mouth.

"Ana, we need to talk."

I hesitate, not knowing what to say but simply nod my head in return.

I take his hand as he leads me over to the couches, gently lowering me onto the one in the centre of the room before moving across to take to the chair across from me, both of us separated by the large glass coffee table. I shift to edge closer to him but his eyes tell me not to, wagering me to stay exactly where I am for the time being.

"Christian, I –"

"Ana, I think I should talk first… If that's okay?" His request cuts through me but I can't reject his offer, quite frankly unable to conjure any sort of introduction to a conversation on my behalf.

"Yeah…" I nod my head furiously, my eyes fixed solely on his while his glassy greys flick around the room, avoiding mine at all costs.

I tilt my head as he rises to his feet, beginning to pace the floor slightly with his fingers fishing through his hair before he reaches down into this bag, pulling out a manila file.

"Ana…" Turning to face me again his eyes drop to the document in his hand. "This is for you. I didn't want to give this to you… I just don't know what to do…"

"You already gave me your letter!" I exclaim, pushing to my feet to stand like him. "I read it. I read it all. I didn't know… I couldn't believe it… I just… You don't have to give me this." I point to the file in his hands, shuffling closer to him so close the gap between us.

Tittering on his toes he edges backwards, maintaining the distance, as his face contorts with an array of unrecognisable emotions.

"Ana, this is isn't about the letter." Throwing his head back and exhaling loudly I can see him visibly count to five in his head before coming back to me. "I need you to read this."

"What is it?" I question him, anxiety and panic starting to set in.

"You need to read it Ana, and you need to take your time with it." Pushing the file towards me he dismisses my question in only the way he can.

"Christian, what is it?" I ask once more, the butterflies in my stomach whirling ten to the dozen.

"Open it."

Lunging forward I snatch it from his hands, flipping it open in a huff as he refuses to answer my question directly.

The file is heavier than I initially thought, the document looking light in his hands. The inside of the manila coloured card is weighed down and I'm drawn instantly to the culprit as I open it – both my wedding band and engagement ring taped down to the inside. I trace my fingers over it, feeling the coldness beneath my numb fingertips.

I pull my eyes away from it and skim over to the first of many pages in the file, all of them printed on paper with a blue tinge to it. At the very top of the introductory page I'm glued to the top line, confusion sinking in hard and fast as I read it over and over in my mind.

[Petitioner – MR CHRISTIAN TREVELYAN GREY]

Prising my eyes away from the page I glare up at him.

"What is this?" I ramble, each word flooded with hesitancy and error.

"Ana, I don't know what you want. But I know that I want you to be happy…" Adjusting this balance his eyes meet mine again – confused and scared blues to equally scared and tentative greys.

"I don't understand…"

"You need to read it Ana." Pointing back to the file he jolts his attention from me, pacing the floor again before slumping into the chair he vacated minutes before. "I didn't want this Ana."

I turn my eyes back to the document in my hands, the file shaking as I struggle to hold it still enough for me to read with care.

I skim the top lines until something calls out to me just below his name.

[Respondent – MRS ANASTASIA ROSE GREY]

_No…_

Continuing to scan the page hastily I come across the thing I both dreaded and expected as soon as I saw his name.

In the middle of the file a list of small check boxes houses a variety of terms and actions. Within it stands out the smallest and most painful of them all. On the right hand column sits a little box marked with a cross inside with black ink, housing three words beside it that I have seen and known about twice in my lifetime.

[DISSOLUTION OF MARRIAGE]

The papers slip straight through my hands as I look down at him from across the room.

"You filed for divorce?"


	59. Chapter 59

**Disclaimer:The characters portrayed in this story are those in E L James's Fifty Shades Trilogy, therefore they remain her property. The plot and themes in this story are those of the author. The author is in no way affiliated with James. No copyright infringement intended.**

**Sorry for the delay! I wanted to upload this chapter at the weekend but my internets been a bit freaky and not open to compromise!**

**Big thanks to all of you for reading and reviewing! I also thank you so much for sending your well wishes. I'm happy to say that I'm feeling a lot better than I was before! :)**

**I was shellshocked after reading your comments! I'm so happy I managed to get you all to the place I was after I wrote it! I have been an emotional wreck over these past few chapters!**

**_To Jasmine_... I've told you before but I'll tell you again, I cannot thank you enough for your support, love and overall amazingness! Thank you for being a fan, but more importantly a friend. Thank you for the inspiration behind new ideas for Ana and Christian! :) x**

**_To Myranda_... I love that through our love for Fifty we've become great friends! I frickin' love our emails, especially our subject lines! Laters ;) x**

**_To Jenny_... Of course! If you, and anyone else want to drop your email into a review I can message you whena new chapter is uploaded - obviously if you're registered to the site you can follow the story and get one that way. Just be sure to divide up the email addresses - the site sometimes omits them for safety etc. _For Example : fifty-shades at yahoo dot com. _If you want me to delete the review afterwards to save anyone from getting hold of your addresses just let me know! :)**

**I can't wait to hear from you all! Your reviews and dedication to this story is what has kept it going! As long as there are readers who are willing to give up your precious time to my drivel then I will write!**

**Much love and I hope you enjoy! As always there is so much more on its way for our favourite couple and I can't wait to hear from you! :) x**

* * *

"Christian?"

Cocking my head to the side I twist my eyes at him, narrowing them as I stare and try to evoke the truth from him because this can't be the truth. This isn't real. This can't be real.

He sits hunched over in the chair, fidgeting far too often to be my Christian – my sometimes harsh and cruel, but overly loving and perfect Christian who sits with an air of seduction and graciousness. In front of me now slumps a tired, distant man with a universe worth of agony lurking behind his eyes. He jerks his eyes around the room, avoiding any form of contact with mine or me in general and keeping his lids closed for longer than necessary in between blinks, as if he's concentrating on his breathing alone and ignoring everything else surrounding him – as if everything else is insignificant and vile.

"I don't… I can't… Christian?"

Each of my attempts of trying to ask him if this is real is difficult, ending with just a high-pitched squeak and a rapid intake of air.

"You really want… to divorce? You don't want –"

I freeze, his eyes finally lifting from the floor between us and hitting mine. It feels like an eternity before he tugs them away again with a shake of his head, but I know it was just a second or two at the most. His cold glance stabs me with the pain of a million knives ripping open my chest, tearing through my flesh and pouring out all of the air I have managed to store into just one loud, whimpering breath. The pain twists through me further when he stole them back and retreating to ignoring me, leaving me bereft of him and everything I had, of every sensation in my sickening body. I stumble on my toes feeling winded, forced into hunching forward in order to regain my balance, in the process disturbing the papers scattered around me. They're spread out around my bare feet, the contents of that disgusting file fanning out on the floor as soon as it slipped through my fingers. I couldn't hold them any longer, my shaking hands numb to feeling and action. I dropped them quicker than you would a hot poker.

As the stabbing spreads through me a chill cascades over my body, clawing through my veins like wildfire – burning, stinging but freezing at the same time, ravaging me from the inside out. It starts in my mind, the smarting hitting my forehead like a brain freeze, quickly traipsing down my spine until finally pooling in my legs. It's as if the whole weight of my body has collected in my lower limbs, everything south of my stomach suddenly becoming heavy, weak and numb. Trying to stand still is downright impossible, my attempts of moving even more so because I'm completely frozen. I'm paralysed from fear, the only part of this fatuous and idle body willing and open to movement being my inadequate mouth spouting out my confusion and denial.

I'm shaking, shaking hard and uncontrollably. I only know this from the tangled hair jerking around in front of my eyes, adding to my distorted and failing sight. The more I try to fight it and stand still, the harder it hits me – the Jell-O like wash taking possession of my limbs, sinking deeper into my muscles and turning everything to mush.

I can't begin to comprehend how many times I have rambled on, spilling out the same thing to him over and over, because I'm totally fixated and concentrating on his face and not the words tripping off my tongue. I could be pouring out my heart to him or reciting the national anthem for all I care, my eyes and mind dedicated solely to his face while on the inside I'm screaming to him to give me something, anything at all just so I can hear him. I need to hear him tell me that this isn't real, that this is just some sordid and sure fire way of telling me how much of a fucking bitch I have been, and that he doesn't want this anymore than I do. I need him to tell me this.

_Please, don't let this happen…_

"Christian?"

"Ana, please…" He trails off into a long sigh, dropping forward and slumping his head into his hands, leaning onto his elbows and propping them up on his knees. "Ana –"

"No, you didn't… I know I fucked up but not this, please?"

Unable to catch my breath I fall to the ground, landing straight onto my knees but with quick thinking I reach forward, slamming my palms into the floor to break my fall and save myself from injury. I land on the papers, disturbing them further and creasing them. I shuffle, pushing backwards and cursing my dumb fingers into action, to pull the scattered document towards me so I can gather them.

I crease them further, tearing some of them in the process as I act in haste, dying to read them again. Their order is completely fucked up – the wrong way round, upside down and some torn straight down the middle. Each and every one is a direct reflection of how fucked up all of this is, how fucked up my head is. I shove them into a disorganised pile, sifting through them until I come across page one.

"No. Nope, this isn't…" I mumble, sniffing loudly as I rip through the pile.

Finding that first page again I fall backwards onto my behind, re-reading those words – those disgusting words that just a few seconds before ripped my world apart. I read them again even though the pain strikes harder the second time around. I read and study it as if part of it will have changed in the time it took for it to hit the ground. Part of me was hoping it would have changed, that I dreamt it up, misread it and that this is just my eyes deceiving me again. My hopes were short-lived and shredded into nothingness as those three little words ring through me.

"Ana, these are just preliminary papers. They're all I could get drawn up in time."

Pealing my eyes from the page I look up at him, trying to clear my vision through clotted lashes and a river of water. He can't bring himself to look at him, his head stooping low as his rubs the back of his neck repeatedly.

I shake my head, murmuring my objection, unsure as to whether he saw it or heard me but that's insignificant right now. I lower my eyes back to the mess in my hands, refusing to give up hope.

_This has to be a dream. This isn't real. It's all a lie. It's not real._

I skim the page for the sixth or seventh time, unable to decipher one word from the next as they begin to mould into one black blob on light blue paper. The only words I can make out somewhat mean absolutely nothing to me, just a blur of random letters thrown together.

_Irreconcilable._

_Support._

_Custody._

_Negotiation._

"Please, this isn't real… Please, Christian, you haven't done this?"

"Ana, I had to. This is for the best."

I scream at him, a loud Earth shattering scream bursting from my lungs, painful even to my own ears and causing that ache in my temples to throb harder than ever before.

Screaming, sobbing and crying my heart out to him I thrown the papers to one side, flinging them across the room with disgust and hatred, moving them as far away from me as possible. I blare out, throwing my arms in the direction of the travelling lies, rocking on my knees until I'm empty.

I slide forward onto my hands, landing on all fours and awkwardly crawling over to him. I scrape my knees along the carpets, the plush and bouncy texture of the notably expensive floors is nowhere near enough to stop the burn from striking my skin through my sweats. I claw my way over him, my fingers clinging onto the fibres as I try to drag my body to his side, each movement carried with the weight of the world crushing my spine.

"No, baby, no… Don't do this…" With my eyes and nose both streaming I beg him, pleading over and over not to do this to me, _to us_.

I reach him, my fingers stripped bare and raw, somehow mustering just enough strength to at first push my palms into his converse, using them as spring board before tugging my way up his jeans, lifting myself and edging closer to him. Coming up to his knees, closing the gap between us he shuffles back, instantly adding distance to the cavity I bridged and heading clean out of my reach. I wriggle as close to him as I can, positioning myself in between his parted legs, moving into him as much as I can with just the foot of the armchair blocking my way.

"Christian…" I cry to him, digging my nails into his thighs as I sob. "Please…"

I reach up to his face, trying to take his fingers away from rubbing his lower lip but he shoots me down, pushing it way quickly and holding it momentarily in his warm hold.

"Don't. Ana, don't."

His three, short, sharp words cut through me like a blade, more hurtful than his dismissal of my touch.

"Please, Christian… I know, I know I messed up so bad… I'm sorry, I am… Just please, don't –"

"This isn't about messing up. This is about me giving you what you want."

"What _I_ want?" Sniffing hard against the back of hand I push off the floor a little, sitting up straighter and using his legs as my hoist to bring me higher. "You think I want this? I don't… I don't want this!"

In a flash he is in my face, falling forward and landing just inches before me – his previously slouched and lounging position recoiling back into a menacing creature. I flinch from his lightning movement, his closeness beginning to scare me, along with his unreadable, blank eyes.

"I don't know what you want anymore!" Cupping my face between his fingers he stops me from moving away from him, pressing into my cheeks like a vice and making sure that my eyes are practically in his as he spits out at me. "I thought I knew what you wanted. I thought I knew and it sure as fuck wasn't this –"

"I really don't –"

"How the fuck am I supposed to know what you want? You tell me one thing but I can't -"

With an angry grunt he releases me, his hands leaving my face quicker than I can blink as he pushes back into the chair, recoiling like a spring.

"I know I fucked you around, I know I have and I am so sorry… Please, please, you can't think I want this, not deep down… You know me –"

"I can't read you Ana, I'm not a fucking mind-reader!"

"I'm not expecting you to –"

"Fuck!" He growls at me; a deep, low growl from within his chest.

"Please, believe me…"

Pushing off the floor, digging my hands into his jeans I scratch my way up his body – scraping my nails over the coarse material until I reach his t-shirt. I heave myself onto him, pushing my legs up onto his to straddle him as my hands find their way to the back of his neck, cupping him and keeping his face near mine.

"I know I've fucked up. I've been such a fucking bastard, and ridiculous and cruel…" I struggle to maintain a steady rhythm, each breath ending with a hiccup like sound as I gasp for air. "I'm sorry… I'm so, so sorry…"

"Ana," keeping his eyes closed his reaches up with his hands, reaching around his back to prise my hands from his neck. I resist him, pressing my fingers into him but he manages to rip them away with ease.

"Don't so this… Please, Christian… I w-want you… I need you…"

My eyes continue to stream as I do everything to stop him from pushing me away. I wriggle on top of him, refusing his attempts of moving me.

"I shouldn't have done this, I know… just please…"

With one last ditch attempt I curl around him, squeezing into his chest and ignoring the hands pushing up to my shoulders trying to shove me away. I nuzzle my head against his neck, wiping and drenching him with my tears - the collar of his t-shirt quickly soaking with my pain.

"Please -"

"Ana, stop."

I feel his fingers creeping through my hair at the base of my skull, for a second a thought pops into my mind, believing that this was it - that he was back and taking way this torture - but it leaves me no soon as it arrives, his hands scooping my head from him and retracting it from any contact.

"Stop."

He mouths it to me slower this time, colder and harsher than before. Lifting my head I open my eyes slowly, looking up to find his greys finally open and staring at me. His empty eyes pierce through mine indignantly, a sight that would naturally make you run, fall helplessly into a foetal position while crying out for mercy, but I can't move. I can't move from his hold, paralysed from the neck down from simply his glare.

"I'm a bitch, I know I am, but please…"

I repeat myself for what must be the thousandth time, the same line coming out again and again. I scratch at his arms, digging my nails into him to keep him here, to stop him from casting me aside and rejecting me.

For a while he just ignored me, staring blankly at me as I clung to him. I tried to get him to look at me, needing him to look at me so I could get him to believe me, hoping that he would see I'm telling him the truth. He knows I won't be able to look him in the eyes if I was lying. He should know that!

"Ana, you need to stop!"

Throwing his head back against the chair he blinks hard, opening his eyes again to a black overtaking his grey while the whites glisten. Whether it's just my failing eyes tricking me, I feel that he's about to break. I know this man, I know him – I know that the way his lips are pressing so hard against each other that they're white, and the way his jaw is twitching as he grinds his teeth together, and the way his eyes are turning glassy are all signals that he's still here with me, that he's not completely shut off. I know him. I know that he's moments away from breaking down - that I'm breaking him down.

I just need him to believe me.

"I know you can't believe me right now, but I want to be married to you. I really do…"

"I can't Ana. I can't –"

"Please!" I force my face to his, our noses rubbing against each other. I don't care that my nose is running heavy and that it's covering his in my excess. I don't care that my tears are running into mulch, mashing together with the ones that I think are his. "Please, baby, don't… I need you. I can't do this without you…"

"I'm not doing this anymore."

Cupping my shoulders with his palms he pushes me back slightly, pulling my head away from his and then making to stand. I wriggle, following suit and reluctantly moving, shifting off him as he continues to squirm beneath me.

"Don't go, please don't go!" I cry harder, the roaring agony in my chest ripping me open deeper and further.

Christian holds me underneath my arms as I stumble backwards, stammering to my feet before letting me go only when he returns to his feet, making sure that I'm steady on my toes. I try to cling to him, maintaining that hold I had but he's too strong for me, easily escaping my grip and moving around and away from me in seconds. I cry out to him again, begging him not to leave, watching him as he paces the floors behind the couch.

"Don't go… No, please, don't!"

"I just need a fucking break! I need to use the bathroom or something –" Throwing both of his arms up into the air defensively he marches off towards the master bedroom, slamming the door shut as he goes into what has been my isolation for the past two days.

I step forward slightly wondering whether to follow him or not, but may decision was made for me as the door bolted to a close, the violent attack shaking the walls and the floors under my ice cold feet.

I'm left in silence once again, left to my nothingness.

I stand there for a few moments, shaking my head and scratching, rubbing and knotting my fingers against the backs of hands.

I don't know what to do.

I glance around the room in search of a Kleenex or something to wipe my nose on and try to quell the water drenching my cheeks and neck. The room is bare for such an expensive suite, bare of all emotion and necessities that I need right now. This room used to be ours, a room full of love and passion but what does it hold now - the end of my marriage? The end of everything I have… _had?_

Clutching my chest I pace the room, waiting for him to return before he ricochets out of my life again. I walk, or stumble rather, around the couches, the coffee table and the fireplace. I curl into myself as I move; protecting what little feeling I have inside. Reaching the sideboard I crouch down, taking the tormented and hurt filled divorce papers in my hands before rising to my feet again. I hold onto the table to lift myself without turning my attention away from the papers.

This is because of me. I did this. I have no one else to blame for this.

I press them hard into my chest, pushing them into me as I rock back and forth. I let out a whimper as it became more and more real with each second passing by. I don't want this…

The hard bulge on the inside of the manila file cuts hard against my stomach. I loosen my hold of it, trying to lessen the painful sensation it's strumming into me. I take a breath before deciding to face my death head on, no longer able to avoid this.

I fold the file over, turning it inside out and tucking the crumpled papers in as neatly as possible, trying to stop them from falling out again as I turn my focus to the tape holding my rings to the card. I pick at the corners repeatedly, the tape well and truly stuck fast to the page. I curse it until a little piece lifts under my nail, just enough for me to grab hold of it properly and rip the rings free – _my rings?_

Will they still be mine, or will I have to give them back?

_I guess I already did…_

I peel them away from the clear, sticky tape and fondle them in my hand. Both are icy cold and alien, yet familiar and comforting at the same time. It's a difficult feeling to understand and control. I roll them around in my palm, staring at the diamonds as they shine and sparkle under the lights overhead.

_This is what he thinks I want? He thinks that I've already ended it because I gave them back_?

I could slap myself for doing this, in fact I think I already have on several occasions but even so, it's not enough of a punishment for wrecking my marriage, hurting Christian and causing him unthinkable grief and harm.

It's amazing to think how these two little rings can hold so much meaning behind them. To anyone out of marriage it's ridiculous to think that these could hold that much power and pain, but I know. I know what I've done and how much of a stupid mistake it was. I know abandoning him was the catalyst behind this decision, but somewhere along the way these two rings were the straw that broke the camel's back. I broke him by doing this. I don't deserve him and Christian sure as fuck doesn't deserve this.

I roll the metal around in my palm without moving, completely unaware that he's joined me once again until that familiar feeling of being watched washes over me with a shiver down my spine. I lift my eyes to him, finding myself standing a little straighter in posture as I stare across the room to him. Before he can open his mouth I begin, shutting him down to say my peace. I just need to get it out before he leaves and I lose the chance to tell him the truth.

"It wasn't some sort of plan to give these back to you –" I open up my palm and filter my eyes to them, signalling the subject of my oration. "I didn't know what I was doing… It was just some stupid mistake that popped into my mind…"

"Ana –"

"No, I know you can't believe me. I get it, but I never meant that I was leaving you… I mean I did leave but I was always coming back…"

I creep forward, stopped in my tracks when he mirrors my movements and maintains the distance. I know I'm not welcome near him.

"I understand. I just wanted you to know that before we… do this." I gulp hard, fighting back the bile rising in my throat at the single thought of this.

"We can't keep –"

I cut him off immediately. I don't need to hear his justification over this. I don't need to hear his reasons because I'm not going to try and change his mind, because I know that he'll have already set his heart to this and isn't for changing. I've hurt him enough already to try and twist his decision for my selfish ways. I'd do anything to have him back with me, but I won't force him into this. He deserves, and needs, so much better than me. All I do is hurt him and make him feel the villain when deep down it's me.

"I just want to say one thing, please?" I beg him, wiping my cheeks with the back of hand to push away the tears that continuing to fall without fail or break.

He doesn't answer out loud, just a single nod of his head giving me the go ahead and telling me that he's prepared to hear me out this one last time.

"I love you so much, and I don't want to divorce you. I love you so much that I never want to be away from you, but at the same time…" I gasp for breath, losing composure as I try to get my words out. "At the same time, I love you too much to put you through any more shit like this."

I tear my eyes from him as I steady my breathing – taking in slow and deep breaths to calm myself before I can continue. I'm grateful that he's patient with me, aware that there is so much more that I need to say and he's willing to allow me this.

"If this is what you want – what you really want – then it's okay." I pucker my lips releasing my breath, the stabbing becoming more intense. "But only if this is what your heart is telling you, and not what you think I want or need. It's just about you now. If you want this, then I'll find a pen and sign them without arguing. I'll sign everything you want me to because I love you, I'll always love you, no matter what happens."

A whimper crossed with a painful sigh trips off his tongue but I continue before he can mutter anything of significance.

"I'm ready to do whatever it takes, whatever you want so I can make this up to you and show you that I love you, and that all of this was just a fucking mistake. If there is just a smidgen of a chance that you still want me and can let your heart accept me, then I'll do whatever you want Christian. Anything at all, but I won't stand in your way if you really don't want me anymore."

I fill my lungs without releasing anything until I begin rambling again.

"I'll sign them right now if you tell me that this is it, that there is no chance of reconciling. I won't stop you or try to blackmail you because I've done enough already… You shouldn't be put through this. So, you can leave or I can leave and we won't have to do this anymore. We won't have to be a part of each other's lives, expect for Blip unless you don't want to… There are always mediators for that sort of thing because I won't deny you that right, never!"

"Ana –"

"He's your baby too, and if you want to be there for him then I won't stop you. I would never stop you from being in his life, unless you don't want to be there. I understand either way. I've done too much, I know that." I drop my eyes to my hands, my rings in one hand and the file in the other.

A sombre pause separates us for a long time. I switch from looking down to the floor to him, twisting my eyebrows in confusion waiting for him to give me the signal to carry on, get this over and done with so he can leave. I know it'll kill me to do that, that I'll want to die as soon as I give it up to him but I'll hate myself even more if I hurt him again when he had the chance to leave.

"Christian?"

I prompt him, breaking the silence first to quell the reticence and to stop him from staring at me the way he is. His eyes are darker than ever before, his pupils covering his iris and taking over the whites. I'm losing him more and more as time goes on.

"Christian, I think we need to do this. Is this –"

"God, shut the fuck up!" Charging over to me like a bull I still, falling limp with fear as he confronts me, shouting me down. "Shut up."

In the blink of an eye he meets me, shoving his arms through the gaps of mine and clasping my back, tugging me into him. Cupping my behind with his palms, angrily pressing his fingers in and squeezing he lifts me from my feet, walking me backwards until I meet the wall behind me. I cry out as he slams me into it, hitting the back of my head against the concrete. He ignores me, one of his hands leaving my behind for the nape of my neck, digging in his fingers to my skin and snagging my head forward until his lips meet mine.

"Shut up." He breathes hard onto me, painfully ramming his tongue into my mouth and invading me, conquering me.

I rock my hips into him to try and stabilise my weight, the hard fixture behind me the only thing keeping me steady bar his fingers clawing at my behind through my sweats. I push my weight into the wall, lifting my legs to wrap them around his waist and linking my ankles at the curve of his spine, pressing him closer to me.

I respond to him, whimpering and moaning as he takes me – his hard, serpent tongue teasing mine and tracing my lips in between strong kisses. I react to each flick of his tongue, welcoming him and giving in. I wrap my arm around his shoulders, moving up to his neck to grapple him and run my fingers through his hair, noticing the papers I've been clutching onto this whole time. I close off my mouth to him, pulling my head to the side to break our moment.

"What does this mean?" I tremble, out of breath and struggling to take in any air. "What about the papers? What hap –"

"Fuck the papers." He snarls, letting go of my neck to reach around his neck and snatch the file from me, throwing them behind him before returning to my mouth. "I want you. I want you, always."

I groan through relief and elation as he takes me again, crushing my lips under the force of his attack, his tongue dipping into my mouth and caressing mine. He explores me, pressing my hips into him and only pulling away to mouth words through unsteady, needy breaths.

"I love you. I don't want to lose you because of this."

"You never lost me, I pushed you away… I pushed you away. I'm sorry." I answer him, assuring him between deep, lip stinging kisses. "I'm sorry."

* * *

Lying side by side I knot my fingers between his, filling the gaps where mine fit perfectly and belong. I wriggle on the spot, the floors uncomfortable and hard as we lie on the carpet, next to the door. We stood for a while, giving in to our need for closeness and touch until my weight, or lack of feeling to his legs got the better of him. He dropped to the floor taking me with him, falling backwards to the ground with grace. He held me close him to cushion the fall, protecting me and asking me repeatedly if I was okay until I sated him a kiss, and another apology.

I sniff loudly several times, trying to recover myself and smiling when he tugs at his t-shirt, gesturing for me to use that instead of trudging along on my own. Rolling onto my side I curl up to his side, nuzzling my head into the crook of his shoulder as I ruin his shirt.

"Ana –"

Making do I lift my head from his side, using his chest and my elbow as means of propping myself up so I can look him in the eyes. For the first time in a while I see something calming hiding behind them, a different kind of emotion within his returning greys.

"There are only two conditions we can do this on." Squeezing my fingers between his he continues, his free hand moving to my chin and lightly tracing my jaw. "It's the only way I can do this."

"I'll do anything. I don't care what it is, I'll do it." I answer quickly, honestly and without hesitation.

"The first is that this stops here." Shifting, he rolls onto his side to face me head on, bringing us nose to nose. "Right now. It stops now. No more fighting each other over anything. I don't care what it is we can sort it out properly. No more secrets or holding things back. Nothing."

I rub my nose against his in agreement, nodding my head and offering him the same patience he gave me earlier in allowing him to talk freely, without interruption.

"We need to talk to each other, not run away as soon as it fucks up. I never wanted this to happen. Fuck, I only ever wanted to stop you from hurting but now I know that it's all going to affect you anyway. What hurts you hurts me, so from now on we have to be honest."

"Over anything?"

"Everything." He corrects me, tugging at my chin playfully.

"And the second condition?"

"That these –" Turning his attention from me and reaching above my head he picks something up from the floor, bringing them down and to my eye-line. _My rings_. "That these never leave your finger again."

Unknotting his fingers from mine he slides the cold metal onto my finger, securing them in the place they belong, where they should have sat all along and sealing the deal with a light kiss on my knuckle.

"You're naked without them. These little things tell me that you're still mine, and this –" Lifting his left hand from my face he wriggles his finger in front of me. "This shows that I'm yours. Only yours, no one else's."

"I won't. I promise." Urging forward I press my lips to his, agreeing to his condition. "Never again. Never."

"Never?"

"You'd have to cut my fucking finger off before these are ever leaving my body again!"

"Okay, the only exceptions are medical inventions or on the unfortunate event of you losing a finger."

I giggle, a broad grin creeping across his lips as I laugh against him, my lips tickling his.

"It's a good job I have other fingers then, I can swap them to a different one."

"I suppose, but I'm rather fond of that finger in particular."

* * *

"Hmm… That feels nice…"

I twist against him, pressing my body into his hands as he strokes my sensitive skin, massaging the sweet smelling body wash into me, to then switch to rhythmically washing it off in delicate circular motions with a cloth.

"It feels pretty good from where I'm sitting too."

I grind into him as he soothes me, rubbing his fingers over my arms until he reaches my chest. He switches from harder, pressing rubs to light, sensual movements over my breasts, careful not to aggravate the usually sensitive and sometimes painful sensation that lurks there. He skims my mounds gently, inadvertently stimulating my nipples before leaving them for my stomach, for our little Blip. He circles my swell repeatedly, humming a delicate melody into my ear as his mind drifts.

I lie back and place my hands on top of his, following his movements and relish in this moment. In this moment I feel normal again, that we're normal again.

The water around us is plentiful, coming up to our waists without splashing over the edges of the tub and dousing the floor in water. The room is filled with an array of complimenting scents – the Jasmine bath oil I can't bear to live without, insisting that I carry it with me wherever I go because it holds so many memories, mixing in with the hint of vanilla dreaming out from the lit candles at the far end of the tub. The hotels white violet body wash finishes off the aroma, my nose and mind in a tingling frenzy from the paradise surrounding me.

This is exactly where I want to be; exactly where I need to be.

"I love you Anastasia Rose Grey." He purrs into my ear, the melody cutting out as he finds that little spot being my ear that sends everything into disarray.

"I love you too." I roll my head against his chest, turning my head to the side to look up at him and reach up to kiss the tip of his nose. "I love you with all of my heart, Christian Trevelyan Grey."

"We'll make this work. We just need to talk more." He promises me.

I turn my head away from his, a slight twinge in the back of my neck paining me. "That's a lot easier said than done." I tell him honestly. "It's hard to open up sometimes."

"I know, trust me I know, but from now on we have to work at it. We have to. We don't have any other choices."

He pulls his fingers away from my stomach, moving them up to my hair and beginning his deep massage of my scalp. I crumble under his fingers working their magic, instantly calming and relinquishing everything to him.

"I know what you mean now. I never really picked up on it, about cutting you off and putting you down. I never meant to. I never wanted to hurt you, you know that don't you?"

He pauses waiting for my answer, my reply being just a nod of the head.

"I've done a lot of thinking. Fuck, I've done nothing but think, and I hate how we snap at each other just because we can't seem to fucking realise when it's time to shut the fuck up, and understand that what we're saying is crossing the line!"

I lie still against his chest wondering whether this is aimed solely at me, or whether he means both of us. He settles my negative thoughts without thinking, continuing to caress my scalp and show me that this is about both of us, that we're both in this together.

I twist in shock at his solution to this, jerking my upper body around to look at him as his idea sinks in.

"_Safewords?"_ I quiz him and his word, as if this is the first time I have ever heard of them. "Safewords?"

"Yes." He shrugs, this idea seemingly normal and perfectly feasible to him. He pushes his hands around my back and pulls me up to him as he sits up in the tub. "It seems like a reasonable solution to our problem."

I adjust to his change of position, twirling in the water to straddle him. I wrap my legs around his back as I plant myself on his thighs, flopping my arms over his shoulders. I nod my head in agreement, the idea growing on me.

"How exactly would it work?"

"Well, whenever either of us feels that the conversation is getting heated or we feel that it's time to take a second and stop talking, we say our Safewords."

"What Safewords? Playroom Safewords?" I ask him, running my fingers through this overgrown dampened hair.

"Why not? We both know them, we can easily remember them and I know that we both respect them."

"Okay, so if red means you've gotta stop right away then…"

"Yellow means that we're not quite there yet but in a minute or two things could turn nasty."

"And then what happens?"

"We stop, go our separate ways for an hour or so to clear our minds, then come together and sit down and deal with this properly." Stroking my cheek he runs the back of his hand lovingly down the side of my face. Reaching my lips his traces them with his thumb. I smile under him, mimicking his lines and kissing the tips of his fingers gently.

"Sounds perfect." I murmur, jousting forward to his face, his fingers not enough. I reach his lips and take possession of his mouth, toying with his tongue as he has mine and explore the mouth I have missed. "You are perfect."

"I'm glad to hear you approve, although while I hear you talking it means you're not kissing me." A giggle breaks from my lips, a salacious grin tripping across his and the smirk he throws at me reaching his mischievous eyes.

"Oh, I do apologise, sir…" Lifting my hips to move into him once again to satisfy his need for my lips on his.

"Much better."

We stay like this for what feels like hours, just intertwined with each other and completely devoted to ourselves and this moment in time. I sit on his lap, curling around him and giving into the slow and loving kisses he offers to me, responding only with my mouth and my fingers pressing into his scalp through his darkened copper hair. I could have sat like this for hours but moved instantly as a voice flooded the suite from outside the bathroom.

I stilled, fear taking over me as I tensed up. I clung to Christian, pressing my body into his harder and closer than before for protection, not simply from whoever is intruding but also to protect my modesty. I feel nauseous at the idea of another man seeing me this way, bereft of clothing and my mask. No man should ever see that bar Christian. All that I have is for his eyes only, and for no one else.

His hands rub into my back, holding me to him as he murmurs some sort of shushing sound into my ear to calm me.

"It's just Taylor." He assures him, squeezing me before shifting beneath me to rise as the voice calls again. I cling to him. "Baby, it's okay. He won't come in here." He rubs my back once more, finishing with a pat to warn me that he's about to move.

Reluctantly I slide off him, sliding out of his hold and onto the porcelain of the large oval tub. I slide backwards in the water, moving out of his way and watch him as he rises and jumps from the bath in one fluid movement. I stare sinfully as the excess water pours off his skin, biting my lip as his muscles flex and retract when he reaches over to take a towel from the side. He smirks down at me as he wraps it around his waist, leaning across to hold my cheek for a second before heading out of the door.

I laugh as he shuts the door behind him thinking of what Taylor's face must look like when Christian emerges from the room in a rather compromising manner. The always stern looking, serious tough guy Taylor, usually dressed in an infamous black suit, white shirt and black tie combo, coming face to face with my Mr Grey, dripping wet from a rendezvous in the tub with just a towel barely covering his modesty.

Splashing around for a second or two I focus my attention on finishing off what Christian started. I grab some of the body wash, squirting a small amount into my hands to go over the areas he didn't get round to. I wash it off as quick as I rubbed it in, dipping back into the water to clear any reminisce and waiting for him to return to me.

I'm eager for his return, impatient and needing him here with me, always.

I smile hearing him come back so quickly but I find myself covering up my chest, left exposed by the water, until I know for sure that it is Christian. I relax my arms from my chest when he closes the door again, sealing us in and sauntering back over to me. His chest glistens under the candlelight, a light dew from before aching over his skin.

"Back so soon?" I retort, biting my tongue to stop the laugh threatening to appear.

"Oh, would you like more time alone, Mrs Grey? Is my return disproving and welcome?" Grinning wide he teases me, dropping to his knees beside the tub. I pull myself up to face him, resting my arms on the rim of the bath in front of him.

"I just can't believe you went out there with just a towel on!" I shake my head feeling embarrassed for him, the embarrassment I know he won't feel. For someone so tortured and who could never stand to be touched he has always appeared comfortable in his own skin, confident and at ease with the body God gave him.

"He's seen a lot worse, trust me! Taylor has walked in on –"

"Lah, lah, lah…" I sing, cutting him off in a second. "I don't want to know anything!" I lift my soaking fingers to his lips, tracing them and in turn drenching them. "Everything okay?"

"Just trivial nonsense." He brushes it off but quickly corrects himself, the blasé look on his face switching to concern. "Do you want to know?"

"Only if you want to tell me, but curiosity has got the better of me." I smile weakly.

"He just wanted to know how long we'll be staying here. I know you're meeting is scheduled for four tomorrow, but we can stay down here a little longer if you want? It's up to you, baby."

"We can't. Appointment with Dr Greene on Tuesday afternoon."

"Well, that solves it then. We'll head home late tomorrow evening."

Without saying a thing I throw my arms open, widening my eyes to him and silently telling him that I want out of the tub. We both prefer to allow him to help me from the water, just a precaution that we're both willing to take if it stops anything bad from happening. After all, they do say that the majority of accidents around the home occur in the bathroom.

"Come on then." Pushing to his feet he reaches out for me. "Before you end up all pruny."

"_Pruny?_"

I laugh as he shrugs it off, taking me from under my arms and carefully lifting me from the water, setting me down on the tiles soon after. Scooping up a towel from the sideboard he tells me to lift my arms, allowing him to wrap it around me before pushing my arms down to hold it in place. I resist him as he throws a second towel around my head, shaking and rubbing my head hard to dry my hair the best he can without giving me whiplash in the process. In lifts it after a vigorous attack leaving my hair tangled and covering my face.

"You'll do."

"I should hope so, because this is the best you're going to get." I smirk, tossing my hair back and stepping forward into his hold. "I love you."

"I love you too." Wrapping his arms around me he drops a little, kissing the top of my forehead gently. "Now come on, we both haven't slept properly and we'll be no use to each other if we're K-Oed from exhaustion."

Nodding my head in agreement I take his hand, following him out of the bathroom and into the master bedroom. He leads me straight to the bed and the mess I left from before. The sheets are crumpled and dishevelled, the product of my tossing and turning from the nightmare I had.

He ignores the mess and the various items strewn on top of the bed, instead turning his focus to helping me dress. I lift my arms above my head when he tells me to so he can throw a t-shirt over me, not bothering to put any bottoms on he gestures for me to get under the covers. I climb in and settle as he pulls out a pair of sweats from his holdall and steps into them.

I roll onto my side facing my bedside table, with a swipe of my arm shoving everything I left on the bed to the floor except my phone. I leave that to one side, deciding to pick it up and place it gently on the side to save breaking it. Checking the time before setting it down I'm surprised to see it's only 7:13AM. It feels as if I've been awake for weeks, not hours.

No soon as I feel the bed dip and the sheets lift from my side I turn to face him, shuffling over to him so I can curl and morph my shape around his body. I feel a wave of weightlessness come over me as well as exhaustion.

Pushing my head into his chest, positioning it just below his chin I tilt my head up, looking at him briefly and kissing him goodnight before lowering back down again to give into my slumber waiting for me.

"I love you."

"I love you too."

* * *

I try to buck against the weight pressing me down into the mattress, the pressure stifling me and caging me in like an animal.

I throw my head back against the pillow as I stir from my sleep, the heat rousing me and bringing back to life. I flicker my eyes open into the dimly lit room, adjusting to my surroundings and silently thanking the hotel for blackout drapes.

I wriggle around, shifting under the weight piling on my chest, needing to move freely and without a barrier. I try to push off the mattress a few times until I finally lift my head and look down my body, clocking my obstruction and willingly giving into him.

As he often does Christian is lying across me, holding me down while he sleeps. His leg is thrown over mine and filling in the gap between my legs, or rather forcing the gap in the first place. I smile as I notice that even in a deep sleep he's steering clear of my stomach and placing any pressure on Blip, instead just an arm flung around me while his head burrows into the space between my breasts, breathing in and out against my t-shirt. I'm unable to resist the urge to run my fingers through his hair, his soft copper locks fine and whisper like.

He starts to writhe and nuzzle into my chest as I disturb him. He murmurs something inaudible into me, but I vaguely make out my name before he whimpered and drifted back into a deeper sleep than before.

I smile looking down at him, staring at him as he rests. I find myself humming some fucked-up unrecognisable tune to him as I tousle with his hair and whisper my pledge to him once again.

"I promise you I will never do it again… I promise. I'll never hurt you again, never… May God strike me dead if I do… I'm so sorry for what I've done to you, but I'll try to make this up to you. I will… I love you Christian…"

"Shhh… I'm trying to sleep." He buries his head in between my breasts as he stirs, briefly lifting his head to look up at me through tired and stinging eyes. "I love you too, more than you will ever realise."

* * *

I thrash around on the bed, flinging my arms and legs all over the place to release myself of the sheets covering me and tying me up into a ball in the middle of the mattress. I cry a sigh of relief as I kick them away, realising that I can move freely without fail, the barrier from before now lifted and allowing me to twist and turn with ease.

"No! No! No!"

Bolting upright I haphazardly shuffle to the edge of the bed, falling off and pushing to my feet before dashing across the room and pounding through the double doors and out into the main sitting area of the suite, panicking and calling out for him until it hits me.

I still, slamming into an invisible wall as the relief sets in as I see him. He's still here.

He's sitting at the dining table at the far end of the room, slouched over a cleared plate while flicking through a newspaper. He lifts his eyes from the page hearing me storm through the suite with the grace of an elephant, quickly beckoning me over to him as he registers the discomfort etched across my face.

I shuffle over to him, tugging the t-shirt into place to cover my exposed sex and try my hand at forcing a smile across my lips, it only turning genuine when I fall into his lap and fill the space between his chest and the table – the gap the perfect size to accommodate me and Blip.

"Hmm…" I groan, nuzzling into his shoulder as I wriggle on his lap.

"Morning baby."

"_Morning?!"_ I push backwards, almost falling from him in the process with shock horror. Thankfully his lightning reactions support me, holding me in place and preventing me from tumbling backwards onto the floor.

"Well, technically it's early evening."

"Thank God!" I sigh, worrying slightly that I may slept the day away.

I glance down at the table eyeing the plate pushed to one side while trying to identify the meal it once occupied.

"Just an omelette, but that was a while ago. I've been awake a while."

"Christian –"

"Ana, if you're going to apologise again, don't." He stops me in my tracks sensing where I was heading. "You need to stop apologising to me. You've said it a million times already and you don't mean it any more than you did when you first said it, and I believed you then and I still believe you now."

"But I am, I really am –"

"Baby, we could spend the rest of our lives apologising for what we've both done or we can accept it and try to move on." He taps my behind slightly, gesturing for me to straddle him. "All we have to do is forgive each other so we can move past this. Can you forgive me for what I've put you through?"

"Of course I do, a thousand times over!" I cry out to him, cupping the back of his head with my fingers and pushing my lips to his. "I forgive you, of course I do."

"Good because I forgive you, Ana. You made a mistake, a stupid one, but you're not the only one who's made mistakes. Shit, I've made more mistakes than you can ever being to imagine, so let's just move on okay?"

I nod my head furiously. "How did I ever land you?"

"I think it started when you came crashing into my life."

"No I mean, how can you just forgive me? Cause I can't forgive myself for doing that to you."

"Because I love you, and I know that I need to be with you." Moving forward a little he presses his lips to mine, planting a soft, quiet and sweet kiss on my lips before pulling back slowly. "Now, what would you like to eat?"

"Can we eat out?"

"Downstairs?"

"No, _out_ out." I press him. "Ray really wants to see you. Maybe we could surprise him with dinner at his place?"

"He wants to see me?" His eyebrows rise into a high arch, shocked by my outburst.

"Why wouldn't he? You're his favourite son-in-law!" I wink.

"He hasn't got a shotgun on hand has he?"

"Huh?" I grunt in confusion.

"He might go psycho over me leading his daughter astray, seducing her, keeping her against her will and now knocking her up and forcing her to bare my child." He reels, adjusting me on his lap to sit higher up on his thighs.

"Don't worry, I'll protect you. I know how to shoot."

"Jesus, don't remind me!"

* * *

"Hernandez or Vargas?"

"Come on, you really need me to answer that?"

"You'd be surprised. My brother seems to think we should stick by Hernandez just because he's had a good season –"

"One good season doesn't sway me. My heart will always lie with Vargas!"

The two voices call out to each other back and forth, sometimes overlapping but most definitely mingling into one and making it hard to distinguish from each other as I find myself drifting into tiredness.

My eyelids are heavy, currently glued shut after one hell of a strange day. Soon after he agreed to come over to see Ray I made the call, checking that he was free before we ordered takeout and came straight over to his place. His house is just a twenty-five minute drive from hotel, a small beat up little two floors house, set in a little acre of land covered in soil and overgrown bushes.

Christian was apprehensive about meeting with Ray face to face now that the news about Blip is open for everyone to know, to both family and the media – the latter not so welcome. Even though I reminded him over and over that Ray really is happy for us, and that he can't wait to be a Grandpa, it still took seeing him smile and welcome him with open arms for Christian to realise that he wasn't about to run him out of town for ruining my life. I reminded him that it takes two people to get pregnant and that we were both as guilty as each other for ending up in this situation, more so on my end. All apprehensive and doubt was quickly abolished when Ray greeted us in his usual hearty way, this time with a quick welcome to Blip before we settled into the lounge and dug into the ample supply of Chinese takeout we ordered. I told Christian want Ray eats, his palate having stayed the same since I've known him, but he insisted on ordering one of everything just in case.

I found myself just sitting back with my carton and watching them engage so easily with each other, the conversation fleeting between fishing, fatherhood and now baseball. I jumped in when they prompted me to but I was happy enough to just sit there and listen, knotting my fingers with Christian's and curling up into his side as I reclined on the couch.

I stir as I feel him move from underneath my head. I moan, rousing from my half-hearted sleep and twist my head to look up at him.

"I think it's time we headed off."

I rub away the stinging in my eyes with my fingers, sitting up next to him. "I'm fine."

"Baby, you're tired." He presses me again, tracing the side of my face with his fingers, a light smile lingering on his mouth.

"No, honestly I'm fine!"

"Annie, you've been snoozing for the past half hour!" I jerk my head to the sound emerging from my left, Ray scoffing to me from over his carton and beer.

"I have not! I've just listened to everything you've said… Baseball… Vargas, right?"

"And what position does he play Annie?"

I squirm in my seat, tilting my head between the pair of them smirking at me as I try to stammer a guess. "Centre-field?"

I guess my answer is wrong from the way they both roar with laughter. I scowl at them and chastise them for ganging up on me, Christian leaning forward and rubbing my upper back before correctly telling me that Vargas is a pitcher for the Mariners.

"Annie, go on and head back to the hotel. You look terrible!"

"Thanks!" I huff, pushing my hair back out of my face and slipping to the edge of the cushion.

"You do, but you sure as hell look a ton better than you did yesterday! Jesus, you looked like death warmed up!"

I drop my head to my lap, lifting it when I feel his fingers squeeze my knee gently ordering me to look at him, his soft eyes telling me that it's okay. That we're okay. I nod my head and make to stand, launching myself over to Ray and throwing my arms around him.

"I love you Daddy."

"Love you too Annie-bear." His raspy voice mumbles in my ear, his big hands patting my back repeatedly, similar to the way you wind a baby.

"You'll come up and see us soon right?"

"Try and stop me. Christian's gonna show me around the sound when I come." As I peal myself from him I break out into a grin watching my Dad purr over the idea of the water. He's always been at his happiest when he's near water, preferably with a fishing rod in hand.

"Ray." Christian soon fills my place, stooping to throw an arm around my Dad, stopping him from exerting himself by trying to stand. "I'll call you over arrangements to come down."

"Make sure you do, and look after yourselves and my little girl."

"I have every intention." Christian smiles, moving to my side to wrap his arm around me, kissing the top of my head. "It's my life's goal to always look after her, and the baby."

"Blip."

I smile as Ray corrects him, calling the baby by our preferred name. I dream of the day I can tell him about the name we've picked out for our little boy. Whether Blip is a boy or not, I know we will have more children in the future. I can't let a child go through what I did – the loneliness and boredom that comes hand in hand with being an only child.

We clear up the mess before we let ourselves out, leaving Ray in peace. I hate leaving the place in a mess just as much as Christian does, because he's come to know just as well as I do that Ray rarely cleans. He's a real man's man - he only cleans up when you can't see the floor and you have no dishes left!

Heading out from the house we slide into the back of the SUV waiting patiently on the drive. Taylor offered to drive us instead of Christian having to drive down, the tiredness still etched across his face from the lack of sleep because of the turmoil I've put him through this past few days.

We ride over to the Heathman in relative silence, the stereo singing out a delicate orchestral piece while I sunk into his arms once again, falling back into a dreary slumber. I woke only when the car came to a definite halt, point blank objecting Christian's attempts of trying to carry me from the car up the suite, insisting that I can walk but I chose to take his arm for stability, questioning my own abilities of being able to stay upright. As soon as we arrived back in the suite I kicked off my shoes, shuffling across the room towards the bed, stripping myself of clothes as I walked, climbing under the covers in just my underwear and waiting patiently for my human pillow to join me.

He left me waiting for a little while, leaving me without my favourite comforter until he stalked in, shutting the doors behind him.

"Sorry." I mouths to me, slipping out of his jeans and t-shirt and stripping down to just his boxer-briefs, the same idea I had rolling into his mind as he pulls back the cover on his side and moves in beside me.

"What took you so long?"

"I was organising a suite for Taylor."

"Why?" I squeak, questioning his decision. "Taylor's been fine staying in the second bedroom."

"I'm here now, he doesn't need to stay in here with us." He shrugs next to me, patting his chest and urging me to rest against him. I oblige without question.

"Are you angry that he stayed in here with me?"

"No, not in the slightest." Yawning he shakes his head, turning his attention back to me soon after regaining himself. "Besides it's not as if he was sharing your bed! I trust him."

"It doesn't bother you that your wife was sleeping in the same hotel room as another man?" I tease him, fingering his navel and reaching a spot that always sends a little shiver down his spine. His private tickle spot that I'm not allowed to poke around for too long, his demons returning quickly and stopping me in the kindest way possible.

"I trust you. I trust you implicitly Ana. That's never in question, never. Now, go to sleep."

His words are the switch that disables me, switching my mind off as he reaches across to turn out the lights.

* * *

Staring into the large oval mirror I attempt for the final time to tie my hair up, so far having failed miserably six times. Each time a section sticks out or bunches up, causing me to want to tear it out from the root instead of having to deal with this.

I rip the tie from my scalp, throwing it down into the basin and cry out in frustration.

"What's wrong with you?"

I lift my head, looking up at him through the glass as he waltz over to me, moving up behind me and pushing his hands through my arms to hold me.

"Hair."

"Yes, you certainly do have a lot of hair." He chuckles against me. I laugh at him, his humour welcome and needed. "It looks fine."

"I want it up but I fuck it up every time!"

"Come here –"

He spins me on my heel, pushing me against the basin and reaching behind me for my hairbrush and tie. He flicks the band around his wrist before taking the brush to my hair, guiding it through with ease. I relax feeling him delicately brush away the tangles and knots, his fingers then taking its place as he scoops my hair up from the root and fastens it in place with my hair tie.

"There you go. Not bad if I do say so myself!" Grinning, pleased with himself, he turns me so I can look at myself.

"It looks perfect!" Shocked by his tremendous effort I twist my head around in the mirror to check it from all angles, elated to see no mishaps or faults. I spin back to face him, pushing up onto my toes and lightly meeting his lips. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." He returns my kiss, dipping his tongue into my mouth to greet mine. "But you really have to go, otherwise you're going to be late!"

"Fuck." I whine, slamming back on my heels and stomping out of the room. "You still won't come in with me?"

"It's your deal, your company... you can do this."

"But –"

"Ana, I meant it when I told you it's your company. I'm not involved anymore, so go down there and show them whose boss and get them to sign that bloody contract!"

"Is that what you say to all the girls?" I wink at him, grabbing my purse from the ottoman at the end of bed.

"Only the ones I share my bed with."

I smile at him, quickly running through a mental checklist of things I should take downstairs with me - phone, contracts, notes, any photocopies of correspondences and most importantly my heels. It definitely wouldn't be a great start to the day to try and leave the room without any shoes on!

Perching myself on the edge of the bed I slip my toes into my black pumps, wriggling my feet around inside them until they fit perfectly. "So, what are you going to be doing when I'm down there doing business?"

"I have a few calls to make then I'll head down into the bar. I'll meet you there when you're finished."

"I doubt I'll be more than an hour." I shrug, possibly underestimating how long it could take to get this author to seal the deal and sign on the dotted line. "Where's Taylor?"

"He's already down there waiting for you in the lobby, I can call him up here or I could escort you downstairs?" Emerging from the bathroom he rests himself against the door frame, staring at me as I rise, smoothing down my dress and pressing him for the okay so I can leave. "Perfect."

"I'll be fine, not even I can get into that much trouble from here to the lobby."

He raises an eyebrow to me, but chose to hold his tongue, allowing me to dash over to him to kiss him quickly and run out of the suite before I really am late for this meeting. I've wanted to meet with this author for a while now, the stats of her last four novels matching the total number of publications Grey Publishing reached last year, under the SIP title and old management. If I manage to clinch this deal it could really mean that Grey Publishing makes it onto the radar for something over that its name and owner.

Reaching the elevators I press for the cart, anxiously waiting for it to arrive as I watch the hands on my watch tick by. I rock back and forth on my heels waiting for the doors to open, feeling uncomfortable with the idea of turning up late, and also a familiar sense of being watched burning into the back of my head. I twist my torso to stare up and down the hallway, checking each side to see if I am being watched or other it's just my imagination and paranoia teasing me again, calming slightly seeing no one around.

_Stop panicking!_

The ping of the lift springing to the top floor instantly relaxes me, that last little piece of apprehension disappearing when the doors open and reveal an empty cart. I press for reception and stand relieved when the doors shut around me, the lift instantly falling towards the ground floor without stopping on any of the lower floors.

By the time the cart reaches the ground I check the time on my BlackBerry, comparing it to my watch and realising that I've still got a good ten minutes or so before my meeting is scheduled to begin, meaning I can settle in before she arrives and have a quick chat with Mark in preparation.

As the doors open I spot Taylor immediately, standing over by the reception desk with his phone pushed to his ear. I could easily imagine that Christian's on the other end making sure that I'm with him or at least in sight. He swings around on his heel and nods to me, ending his call and turning his attention to the clerk on the desk.

I step out of the lift, excusing myself from a group of women dressed to kill in six inch Jimmy Choos heading into the cart. They merge into one to allow me to pass them, freeing myself from the tangle so I can step out onto the wooden floors.

"Shit!"

I'm hit side on by a strong figure, my purse flying out of my hands and hitting the floor along with my phone. I stumble on my heels, momentarily losing balance but with overly strong hands he reaches out to grab me, steadying me on my feet before stooping down to grab my things.

"I am so sorry. I wasn't looking where I was going." He apologises, keeping his head to the ground as he scoops up my purse. Pushing off the floor with his hand on his knee he rises with some difficultly, climbing up into my eye-line so I can see his face and not the thinning grey-flicked hair slicked into a coif.

"Oh, it's fine. Honestly." I assure him, reaching out to take my things from him. "Thank you."

"No, thank you." The corner of his mouth raises, a smirk pushing across his face. I'm mesmerised by his eyes. A bright green, Emerald even, glistening with wise intent behind them. "Have we met before?"

I shake my head to him, quizzing him. "No, I can't say we have. Sorry."

"Oh, it's just you look… familiar, as if I've seen you from somewhere." He narrows his eyes to me, examining my face, the wrinkles creasing further along with the lines on his forehead.

I can't figure out whether he's fairly young and has just had a run of the mill life, paying the prices for it now, or whether he's looking good for an older gentleman. At first I would have guessed him to be similar in age to Carrick but now I think older, something about his eyes reeking age and experience. He continues to pout and study me until his eyes widen, flashing open as he places me.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but are you Mrs Christian Grey?"

I throw him an uncomfortable smile, rolling my shoulders slightly. "Anastasia."

"Oh, I cannot tell you how pleased I am to meet you. I knew I had seen you somewhere, although I wouldn't want to admit it's from tabloid magazines." He laughs, throwing his head to one side. "Well, it's a pleasure to meet you, Anastasia. I used to do business with your husband, many moons ago."

"Used to?" I question him, the sound of that not appeasing to my hairs.

_Please, let this not be someone he's pissed off!_

"Yes, a fairly long time ago now. It was a shock to lose business with him but the economy changes frequently and you have to go with the best buyer. It's every man for themselves, time changes and so do partnerships." He shrugs his shoulders, the smile unwavering and fixed across his lips.

"He'll be around here sometime soon if you'd like to meet with him again?" I tell him, pointing over to the bar where he said he would wait for me. "I mean, that if you ended on good terms?"

"Of course, no hard feelings at all! I'll definitely look out for him. I'd love to have the chance of possibly merging some corporations togethers." He flashes his Hollywood smile to me again.

I check my watch inadvertently, before flicking my eyes back to his glistening Emeralds.

"Oh, I've kept you long enough already. Many apologies!" He extends his hand out to me. I accept it and shake his hand quickly, feeling uncomfortable in his strong grip, just something about the way he's kept eye contact unnerving.

"It was nice meeting you." Tugging my hand out of his hold I prompt him, still unaware of who he is.

"Richard. And it was lovely meeting you, Anastasia." He smiles before excusing himself and racing off towards the reception desk, his slender but towering frame gliding with ease across the floors.

I watch him without noticing Taylor joining me at my side, reaching for my arm and bringing my attention back to the real reason I'm supposed to be here.

"The rooms prepped for you. Are you ready?"

"As I'll ever be." I huff, taking a long breath. "Is Mark here yet?"

"Mr Griffin is waiting for you in the private dining room." He nods.

I smile and settle at the sound of food, having purposively chosen to ditch having breakfast upstairs knowing that it would possibly ease the tension in the room if we turned this into a breakfast meeting. I nod to Taylor, taking his arm and follow him across the lobby floor towards the series of private dining rooms.

I glance behind to towards the entrance, clocking Richard staring at me and throwing over a salute when he notices me staring back at him. I turn around quickly, looking up at Taylor and smile briefly, concentrating on the task ahead.

* * *

Sashaying across the lobby with a spring in my step I glide on over to Christian, Taylor following close behind me.

I clock him sitting at the bar on one of the stools nursing a cup of coffee with his BlackBerry in hand. I feel as light as feather as I bounce over to him, quite frankly feeling fucking amazing right now. Nothing, nothing in this world could possibly dampen how I feel this second.

I creep up behind him, placing my hand on his shoulder before swooping in for a kiss on his cheek. He freezes for a nanosecond until he realises its me, turning his head to the side to catch my mouth.

"Someone's happy." He smirks, registering the big, fat Cheshire cat grin plastered across my face.

"More than happy! I just signed the biggest deal in the frickin' world!" I squeal, jumping on the spot and throwing my arms around his shoulders and burying my head into his neck.

I release him after a quick embrace, Christian ordering me into telling him everything that happened. I reel off in quick succession the details of the contract, overly proud at the fact that I managed to clinch the deal for less than the original price we offered her, and that she has agreed to sign over publishing rights for the next three novels she will produce, positive that we can maintain and exceed the sales of all of her previous books.

I ramble on telling him how everything was done and dusted within twenty minutes, the rest of our meeting simply being breakfast and small talk over financial matters, and possible illustrations for the covers of her novel. I grin from ear to ear as I tell him, mirroring the smile plastered across his mouth.

"Ana, I am so happy for you baby." Caressing my jaw with his hand I roll my face into his palm, kissing it. "I told you that you could do it!"

"I know, I should have listened to you." I grin, his praise and the fact that I've made him proud sending a tingling sensation through my body.

"Come. We need to celebrate." Pushing off his stool he calls to the waiter to charge our drinks to the suite, ordering a bottle for our room. I remind him about Blip, telling him that I'm not going to touch any alcohol and smile when he orders a separate bottle of peach flavoured sparkling water.

Taking me by the hand he guides me around the room, heading straight to the elevators. He keeps me close by his side and something inside me tells me that he's showing me off - the way he's swinging his arm back and forth, drawing attention to us and the way he constantly stares down at me with admiration in his eyes. He's happy to be seen with me, to have me on his arm and at his side - something that just yesterday I thought he would never want again.

As we step inside the lift he moves from my side, pushing away from me to stand at the far end of the cart and throwing over a 'you know what happens' sort of glance to me. I roll my eyes, asking him yet again what it is about elevators that does it to people, breaking out into a blush when he turned me and gave me his answer.

"I don't know about other people but for me, it's you. Just being here with you."

He flashed a sincere smile to me, quickly following it with an off the cuff remark about having me in here one day, if it is the last thing he does. I just rolled my eyes, resting up against the rail as the the lift bypasses the second and third floors, bringing out to the top.

"Oh, did that guy come and find you earlier?" I ask him, remembering the stranger I bumped into stepping out of the lift.

"No. What guy?" Jerking his head to me, lifting his eyes from his phone he straightens, lighting up with paranoia, confusion and negative thoughts.

"Earlier, I bumped into a guy and he recognised me. He told me he used to work with you and when I said you were here with me he said he would look out for you... Seemed keen on the idea of meeting with you again." I shrug, answering his silent demands to know everything.

"No one came to me. What did he look like? Did he give you a name?" He blasts out to me, his face trying to stay calm and peaceful, his eyes flashing out annoyance.

"Tall, thin... Looked a little on the older side but I'm not sure... Erm, he had really green eyes, grey-ish hair." I reel off to him everything I can remember about what he looked like, wishing I could offer him more than what I have. "Oh, and he said his name was Richard?"

"Can't say I remember him. I've worked with a lot of Dick's over the years." A sardonic chuckle leaps out of his mouth, his eyes softening a little. "The fucker can't be anything special if I'm not doing business with him now."

Brushing it off, pushing away from the railing he moves towards the centre of the cart and the lift springs to the top floor. He extends his hand to me as soon as the doors open, waiting for me to move back to his side now that the confines of the lift are no longer affecting him the way they were.

"Where was Taylor when you were meeting with this dick?"

I tense up beside him as he guides me through the hallway towards our suite. "At the reception desk." I mumble quickly. "I had just got out of the lift when I bumped into him, Taylor was in sight at all times. I swear." I assure him, feeling his hand loosen around him, this bringing comfort to his ears.

"Just be careful in future, okay?"

"Always."

Reaching our suite Christian pushes the key card into the door, stepping to one side to allow me to enter first as he has always done, before coming in behind me and slamming the door to a close. I jump hearing the loud bang, but squeal when I feel him come up behind me and take me.

With one hand he swats the backs of my knees, making me crumble in front of him as he swoops me off my feet and takes me in his arms. I squeal and protest against him as if effortlessly carries me through the suite, taking the long way around before hitting the bedroom door.

"What are you doing?!" I grumble at him through a fit of giggling and squeals as he backs up into the door, using his behind to try and release the handle, doing so successfully on the third try.

"We're celebrating your success on landing your first major publishing deal."

"How exactly are you planning on celebrating that?"

"By making love to you."

Hitting the edge of the bed he gently lowers me down onto the covers, dropping me onto the bed and swiftly following me, sliding in between my thighs.

"I want to make love to you Ana. Just love. Just you and me."


	60. Chapter 60

**Disclaimer:The characters portrayed in this story are those in E L James's Fifty Shades Trilogy, therefore they remain her property. The plot and themes in this story are those of the author. The author is in no way affiliated with James. No copyright infringement intended.**

**MANY, MANY, MANY apologies for the delay! I cannot apologise enough! I have been swamped trying to catch up with uni work that I have missed which left me with no time to write this chapter. I have worked hard to try and get it out to you as soon as possible, so here it is. I hope you like it and it was worth the wait.**

**I swear the next chapter will not be as delayed! I have caught up on work and have very few assignments to work on, so I'll have more time to dedicate to the Grey's.**

**Thank you again for your continued support. It means a lot that you are willing to take time out of your day to read and review.**

**I'm looking forward to hearing from you. I love hearing your thoughts on the chapters. As I've said the next chapter is on its way - I'm working on it as I write this A/N. The next chapter is a little 'special' to me, and is something I can sink my teeth into. I think you'll see why at the end of this chapter... :D**

**So, I've taken up enough of your time. This is a very long chapter! I'll leave you with a little WARNING! Well, when life hands you LEMONS you've gotta just go with it, right? ;)**

**Much love and thank you again! I hope you enjoy! x**

* * *

"Oh…"

I groan loudly feeling his hand slowly working its way up the inside of my thigh, the bottom of my dress rising with it. He's stopped in his tracks just before his fingers can truly begin to explore me.

I lift my hand from his chest and push my fingers to his lips, forcing his from mine. He pulls away from me, but only slightly, stilling and hovering just shy of my face, his dark and smouldering greys glaring down at me full of uncertainty and thirst. His lips pucker in protest but I jump in before he has time to say anything, let along overthink this - something we are both guilty of.

"It's the dress..." I pant hard, my breathing laboured and needy. I'm needy for him; for all of him. "It's fitted... Zipper on back..."

I wait until he registers what I've just said, his shoulders relaxing in knowing that I'm not the one rejecting him. His eyes drop as he dips his upper half down to my level and lands a sweet kiss on the tip of my nose. He evades anything more by slipping out from between my legs, pulling away from me and rising from the bed. I prop myself on my elbows watching him as he stands, accepting his silent offer to join him by slipping my fingers into his open and waiting palms. He tugs me from the bed, pulling me to my feet and holding me steady until he knows I'm stable on my toes. I instantly turn my back to him and scoop my ponytail to one side to free my neck and back, gesturing to the zipper starting at the very top of my dress. He's still for a short while; I feel uneasy waiting for his touch, the waiting for his fingers to make contact with the dress that hugs my body like saran wrap.

A moan from within my stomach escapes my mouth, my desire for him now uncontrollable. Once a tame mouse, but now a firestricken panther edging and cursing for sustanence. I'm ready to explode even though he's barely touched me, just his warm breath tickling the hairs on the back of my neck. I'm thankful that his touch follows shortly after and in that second I come alive.

I'm instantly calmed, sedated and free, but this is just my exterior. On the inside a wildfire is coursing through my veins, singeing every nerve ending and titillating me. He knows how desperate I am for him and he plays on it, his movements exaggerated and painfully slow. His fingers lift the zipper from my back, slowly dragging it down the length of my spine, undoing me and pulling the fabric apart until he meets the end of the line, finishing at the top of my behind. I stir feeling his gentle tips skimming my skin as he descends lower, feeling deprived once more when he retreats having succeeded in this minute task. A gut-wrenching twist crawls through my pelvis, pushing higher into my abdomen and dispersing into flickers of a spasm raking through me.

"Shhh..." Christian purrs against my ear, his tongue mindfully tracing the shell, his teeth then taking my lobe in their hold. I bite down hard on my lip to stop myself from screaming, the sensation of what he's doing to me cutting me like barbed wire.

His fingers lift to my shoulder, peeling away the straps of my dress until the top half of the navy shift falls from my chest, exposing my black bra. It falls straight to the top of my swell where it is prevented from free-falling in a natural progression. I try to move my hands from my side to shuffle it down my figure but he swipes them away, striking the backs of my hands like a whip as a tut like noise trips off his tongue.

"No touching."

My legs weaken, almost giving way under me. I fall back against his chest for support, every nerve in my body standing up on end and tearing through me harder than it ever has. He doesn't keep me waiting for long, his palms lying flat on my bump and slipping under my dress and peeling it away from my body, pushing it past my stretched skin until it falls solemnly to the ground.

"Christian…"

"I've got you baby. I've got you."

He hums delicately in my ear as his hands move naturally and seamlessly to my breasts. He cups them through the lace of my bra, rolling them in his palms and relishing in my nipples curdling under the lightest of touch. They pucker and give me away, not that my groans and writhing hasn't already. He massages them gently, leaving them to trace the sides of my bra until he meets the fastening in the back where he unhooks it swiftly and with ease, setting me free. He allows it to fall down my arms and collect on the floor in front of my feet. He lowers himself to my ear, closer than ever, his breathing loud. His tongue flicks out his order seductively, telling me to remove my panties and go back to the bed, but not before he has chance to really explore me. His fingers skim my sex through the lace of my panties, my wetness seeping through and delighting him. When he released me I clumsily shoved my hands down the sides of the material at my hips, shimmying them to the floor and stepping out of them as gracefully as I can. I meet his other instruction by moving back to the bed. I turn to face him then perch myself on the edge, my feet flat on the floor. I sit neatly, innocent with my head dipped low so I can look up at him through my lashes in a way that he loves. I rest my palms on my thighs in a similar way as to how he prefers me to sit in the playroom.

Christian eyes me eagerly, his hands hastily taking the hem of his shirt and tugging it out of his pants. He tries to pull it over his head as quickly and thrifty as he can without undoing any of the buttons, but one gives way under the pressure and breaks free, popping from the material and landing somewhere to his left. With his face covered I take him, reaching out and grabbing him by his waistband. I tug him closer to me, pulling him to stand directly in front of me, taking him by complete surprise.

"Whoa, Ana!"

He groans as he tosses his shirt over his perfectly pre-fucked hair, chucking it across the room. His tongue peeks out through his smirk, tracing his teeth as my fingers hook around his pants.

"Eager little thing aren't you?"

He teases me but I don't answer him, instead maintaining complete eye contact and letting my fingers do the talking for me. I make light work of unbuckling his leather belt, sliding it through the hoops of his pants and pulling it away from his waist slowly. Taking it from him I casually allow it to slip through my fingers before moving over to his zipper. I tease him the way he has me, undoing him slowly and lightly skimming his erection bulging in his pants. He grunts as I finger the rock hard statue pressing through his slacks. I release the button holding him together, his black Calvin Klein's coming into sight. I finger the hem where the name sits, trailing my tips from one hip to the other until he cuts me off, his hand pushing mine away.

"Lie back."

I act without hesitation. I shuffle up the bed and lie backwards, parting my thighs ready to accommodate him once more. I push back on my elbows, propping myself up to stare at him from over my bump. I drink him in as he steps out of his pants, his boxers leaving with them and his always impressive and stunning length springing to life in front of my eyes. I can't control the salacious cries collapsing off my tongue, no amount of lip biting able to quash them.

Without saying a word he climbs up onto the bed, kneeling on the very edge and lifting my right leg from the mattress. Dipping low, almost parallel with the mattress, he starts his voyage. He starts at my ankle, his lips wrapping themselves around my skin, his tongue licking and caressing me as he moves. He moves in an agonisingly slow and pained speed, ignoring my efforts of pulling him up and bringing his attention to the part of my body where I want him most. _Where I need him_.

He creeps up my thigh, stroking the inside with his tongue until he hits my…

"Oh, fuck!"

I arch my back as he blows on that sensitive spot, pushing my head back into the sheets beneath me. I slam my hands into bed, scratching and tugging at the sheets as I writhe.

He blows seductively, leading me on and making me wait for his tongue to make contact and send me over the edge but he defers his attention, bypassing that part of me completely. He continues up my stomach, ignoring my sighs and groans of disappointment and following the peak of my swell until he meets my chest, his whole and undivided attention now solely dedicated to my throbbing nipples.

"Perfect." He mutters, trailing off into a hum of appreciation.

He takes my left nipple in between his teeth, nibbling at it and stirring everything south into a complete frenzy. He sucks hard while his hands start to move, moving up and down the silhouette of my frame - starting near my underarms and trailing down to my hips. His hands press into my sides, his attempt of keeping me still but it fails. I throw my head back and groan, each flick of his tongue, every nibble and graze of his teeth against my sensitive pucker, and every long, hard suck tearing me apart.

"Christian… God, please…"

"Shhh, baby, I've got you." He hisses his warm, soothing breath against my heightened and needy shell. He lifts his eyes and looks at me straight. "I'm here baby, always."

He shuffles higher up the bed and positions his hands on either side of my face, pressing them into the mattress as he tries to support his weight and hover over me, my stomach pressing into his. He rocks his hips from side to side to widen the distance between my legs. I react instantly, pulling them up and parting them wider. I press my knees into his hips and guide him to the place where he needs to be.

His length strokes my sex a few times, pushing up from the base right up to that sensitive, pulsating point that only needs a flicker to make me explode. He slides the length of himself against me before finally giving in and dipping the tip of his erection into me.

"Fuck!"

Christian lifts his chest away, staring down between the gap separating us. His lips form the perfect O as he watches his length sliding inside me until I reach the point where I can't accept any more of him. I lift my hand to his cheek and draw his attention back to me. Our eyes meet and that's the spark that sets him on fire. He starts moving, pushing in and withdrawing with an unhurried stride. He rocks and swirls his hips, digging his length into me and circling my walls, meeting my cries for more. I tilt my hips to meet his gentle thrusts, both of my hands tugging at his face to bring his lips to mine.

"I need you..." I breathe, pulling him down to me. He bends his elbows to lower himself to my level. "I need you closer... I need you on me..."

"I can't... Ana, I can't. The baby..." He grunts, his tongue invading my mouth and forcing its way to mine.

"Please. I need to feel you..."

I try my hand at coaxing him into a decision, chewing down on my lip and narrowing my eyes to him, but I know the baby is his first concern. Christian has point blank refused to place any weight onto my stomach since we found out about our invader. He's scared that he might hurt him, even though I reminded him over and over that it was okay - hell, I could lie on my front without any great difficulty, although not now. He even rejected the pamphlets I brought home from the doctor's office stating in black and white that you can lie on your stomach as long as it's comfortable. Nothing will sway his mind.

I can see it in his eyes that he's working this out, his length engulfed and embedded deep inside his property, his face lingering seconds away from mine.

After a few moments of stillness he pulls out of me, sharply and pushing back onto his knees. I sit up and follow him but he retreats completely, stammering to his feet and standing next to the bed. I make to question him but he holds out his hands to me, reaching down to help me to my feet to stand before him again, this time bare, even more aroused and wanton. I rise, my fingers slotting between the gaps in his.

"Trust me?"

He asks, towering over me. Before I have time to nod my head in complete and utter agreement he leaves me, moving back to the edge of the bed and occupying the position I held moments before. His feet are flat on the floor, as mine were. He's sitting bolt upright, his length standing tall, throbbing hard and pulsating, needing me just as much as my sex needs him. I stumble in front of him, standing at his feet. I make to turn my back to him, thinking that's how this was going down but he stops me. He keeps me facing him and asks me again if I trust him. I agree again and he pulls me to him, pulling me into his lap. He holds me close as I climb up him, my knees sitting on either side of his hips and trying to find my balance. I wriggle trying to steady myself, concerned that I'm not supported but he senses this, goading me to lean backwards to prove that he has me. That I'm safe. My doubts are quashed as I push back, his hands pressing into my back and stopping me from leaning away from him too far.

I lift myself up from his thighs and position myself over him. I reach down between my legs to take him, clasping my fingers around him before slipping down, accepting the whole of him with ease and comfort, my insides ready and waiting for him. I start to move, rocking back and forth. Riding him. My fingers make their way through his hair, tugging hard at the ones at the back of his head while I take possession of his mouth.

"Fuck..." He groans, taking in a sharp intake of breath as I rock and ride him. "Close enough for you, baby?"

"Shhh..." I shush him, pushing off him and continuing with a rise and fall routine.

One of his hands slides down my lower back to my behind, his fingers cupping and squeezing me, exciting a moan from deep inside my chest. I start to pick up speed despite his attempts of slowing me down. I act on the stirrings of those oh-too-familiar twists starting to arrive and somersault inside, pulling me apart at the seams and sending my pelvis into spasm.

"Oh..." I writhe, throwing my head back and giving in.

"I can feel you baby... I can feel it... Ana, come on. Come for me baby."

"Oh, God… Christian…"

His words were my release, my insides hitting that peak and waiting for just one more push to send me off into oblivion.

"Come for me."

I explode around him, screaming as I hit my climax. My cry dissolves into a whimper as I feel him still and jerk inside me as he finds his release after two further thrusts. I hunch forward, my head flopping against his shoulder.

"Fuck, baby." He groans, spent and satisfied.

We sit this way for a few moments, neither of us able to move with our breathing out of sync and beyond irregular. Unable to maintain his upright position Christian falls backward onto the bed, leaving me with no other choice but to follow him. Feeling him inside me still, his jerk and movements becoming too much for me to handle. I press my palms into his chest and withdraw from him, a hiss escaping him as I slide off him and fall into the empty space to his right.

"I will never get my fill of you." He pants, struggling to catch his breath. He rolls onto his side to face me square on, creeping forward slightly to kiss the top of my head.

"Even when I look like this?"

"You look perfect."

"He's starting to get big… I'm getting big." I glance down at my stomach, admiring how large my bump is now despite my hopes that I could have a little while longer to adjust to each growth spurt.

"I love the way you look. A lot of men do, believe me. Especially that guy who was in the meeting with you!"

"Mark?" I screech, snapping my head back in shock. "Christian, he's gay!"

"That means fuck all. It doesn't mean he doesn't look at you that way. Trust me Ana, I saw the look in his eyes."

"Christian, not only is Mark gay and happy living with his partner of… two years, I'm pregnant!" I edge closer into his chest, narrowing the gap between us as best I can, Blip closing in first. "Besides, who's going to want a whale bouncing around on top of them?"

"Personally, I like the bouncing –" He laughs as I scowl at him. "You know, a lot of guys have fucked up fantasies about having their fill with pregnant women."

"_Fantasies_? It's probably because they know they can't get them knocked up!" I snort, unable to think of any other 'logical' reason behind it. "Are you one of them?"

"I only have eyes for one pregnant woman, but I will admit that fucking her is pretty damn phenomenal!"

A smile stretches across my lips. I reach forward with my fingers and fist them through is hair, his face level with mine. I run my fingers through the section at the front of his head, the bit hanging low against his forehead. I tease the length of it in between my index and middle finger noticing how long it is now, and feeling his scalp dampened and dewy from our workout.

"You need a haircut."

He looks up at my fingers fiddling with his hair. "I know, but my stylist has otherwise been preoccupied as of late. It's been impossible to try and schedule an appointment with her."

"Oh, I do apologise for this inconvenience!" I grin at him, unable to suppress my assumement. "However, I have it on very good authority that she has a free slot now if _Sir_ would like it?"

"Hmm... That has so many possibilities..." He trails off, falling backwards against the mattress and unleashing an orgasmic sigh.

I shake my head at him and his filthy mind, secretly howling at nodding away in agreement. I force myself to sit up, having to muster a lot of strength to bring myself upright. I swat Christian with my hand as I move, his sighs growing louder and more sinful.

"You find a pair of scissors and get everything ready. I have a comb and shampoo in my bag."

"The suite has shampoo provided."

"I know, but that's hotel shampoo. I prefer ours. It smells nicer." I explain to him as I rise from the bed and clamber to my feet, leaving out that the main reason is because its a permanent reminder of him. It's the shampoo he has used. The shampoo that brings his face to mind whenever I smell it.

"It's also more expensive. Who would have thought that Ms Steele would ever have such expensive tastes?" He replies sarcastically, copying me and lifting himself from the bed.

I grab him as soon as he rises, taking his jaw between my palms and holding him still. "Grey. I'm a Grey now." I affirm to him, lightly pressing my lips to his. "Grey."

I release him a second later, a boyish grin etched across his face as he saunters off into the bathroom to organise and prep my 'salon'. I stretch out my jellified arms and legs, and move over to my upturned suitcase sat in the corner of the room. The entire contents of the case covers the floor immediately surrounding it, the result of my manic fit and carefree assault in trying to find my iPod. I kick around the clothes, moving them out of the way until I uncover my cream washbag which houses my combs, shampoos and various other personal effects. I bend down awkwardily to pick it up, scooping up the first items of clothing I came across: a black vest top and a pair of checkered pyjama pants.

I hear Christian bashing around in the en-suite - a series of loud bangs followed by the opening and closing of cabinet doors, and the sounds of him rummaging through drawers. After a shortwhile he calls out to me. "I found a grooming kit. The scissors look shit but they'll do."

"Okay! I'll be in in a minute..." I shout back to him, my voice muffled from my vest smothering my face as I try to throw it on. It takes far too much effort to wriggle it into place, but as I finally shrug it down over my breasts and stomach I catch him in the corner of my eye, standing in the doorway with a fluffy white towel wrapped around his waist.

He coughs loudly to evoke my attention. "Excuse me? What do you think you're doing?"

I raise my eyebrow to him contemplating whether or not to throw out a sarcastic remark to him, deciding on the latter for the most part. "I'm dressing?"

"I gathered that." He snaps, his lips pressing hard into a line across his face. "No. I don't think so. If I'm paying for this service then I insist... No, it is a requirement that you wear my uniform."

_Uniform?_

I cock my head to the side taking him and his hard expression in as he casually leans against the door, the towel hanging perfectly from his hips - that V soaking in my gaze along with his truly delectable happy trail. I want to follow it... I want to rip his towel open, drop to my knees and take him in my...

"How exactly would _Sir_ be paying for this transaction?" I exaggerate his favourite word; the word that does to him what his smirk does to me. "And may I ask what uniform you have in mind? I've never had to wear one before."

"It's a new rule. Well, my rule to be precise." He corrects himself, his smirk returning high and broad on his lips. "And payment will arrive in whatever means you wish."

"Whatever I want?"

"Absolutely. No questions asked." He moves out of the way of the door, nodding his head to gesture inside the bathroom. "Now strip. In here. Slowly."

"Any old excuse…" I mumble to myself, sashaying past him and making a quick grab for his towel. I snatch it from him, exposing him for a second before his lightning reflexes caught up with me, his fingers taking it back.

"Now, now Mrs Grey. Two can play at that game."

I scream out as he whacks my behind. I jump forward, my cheek stinging and raw. He laughs, or roars to be more precise, as I feign severe injury. He pulls the chair up to the basin and positions it about a foot away from the side, just enough so he can rock backwards and lean over the sink before heading back out into the bedroom.

I oblige with his requests and shuffle out of my pants, dropping them to the floor and kicking them to one side. It takes just as much effort to take off my top as it did to throw it on. I toss it across the room over to the bathrobes hanging near the door. I glance over to Christian as he emerges once more, this time his towel replaced by his briefs and his shirt in his left hand.

He throws the shirt over to me, barking his orders at me as he takes to the chair in front of me. "Put that on. Do it up, but only halfway from the bottom. Up to about... _here_." He stretches out with his index finger, circling a small area just under my breasts in the centre of my stomach.

"Tad bossy, aren't you?" I mock him, sliding my arms into the sleeves of his shirt and doing up the 'recommended' buttons.

"I just want an enjoyable and memorable experience. I'm the first to admit that there is only one thing sexier that you naked and that is you... wearing just my shirt... nothing else." His eyes fixate on the hem of the shirt, the bottom only just covering my privates. He traces his lower lip with his tongue.

"Calm down before you have a coronary!" I shake my head to him, moving closer to him in his chair.

He straightens, trying to maintain a serious expression as he leans back, rocking backwards on the chair to hover over the basin to allow me to wash his hair. I take the toothbrush cup from the side and rinse it through to clean it before filling it with the luke warm water running free from the faucet. I pour it over his head, soaking his hair. I repeat this several times before squeezing a small amount of shampoo from the bottle, the smell tickling my nose as it flows from the bottle into my palm.

I start rubbing it into his hair and have to revert back to the bottle for a touch more, his hair thicker and longer than usual. _Seriously, how does it get this long in such a sort space of time?_

The groans he's mustering make the hairs at the back of my neck stand up on end. They tell me that I'm satisfying him. He writhes in his seat, his thigh muscles flexing as he clenches them. I continue to massage the shampoo into his scalp, working it in and starting to drag my nails over his scalp.

"Hmm… I fucking love it when you scratch my head like that!"

I dig them in deeper hearing that he like this, his moans growing louder and echoing sweetly off the tiles surrounding us. After five or six minutes I lift my fingers to grab the cup, filling it once more to rinse his hair of the soap. I pour the water over his head and stand there fascinated, admiring the way the water and light brings out the lighter copper tones in his hair.

I finish rinsing and grab a hand towel from the next basin over from us, throwing it around his head like a veil to try and soak up some of the excess water I couldn't wring out myself. I buff his hair twice, maybe three times before I throw the towel down and take out the pair of small silver scissors and my lilac comb. Inside the grooming kit laid open in front of me lays an array of shaving blades and brushes, similar to the ones Christian uses at home. I start dragging the comb through his hair, combing out the slight curls forming around his face and I finally get a true and honest perspective of exactly how long his hair is now. I can never understand how it grows this quick seeing as it was only six weeks ago since I last cut it!

He adjusts in his chair, pulling it away from the counter to allow me a clear gangway all the way around him. I start the same way as I have always done, at the back of his head. I prompt him to dip his head low so I can tackle the back, setting the overall length - the length he should have, and the one he looks smarter and sexier with. I make quick work of layering the back, cutting in the shape he has lost in growth, moving around his front so I can take to the sides and his fringe. I manoeuvre around him in order to get a clearer view, ending up having to stand in between his legs to achieve this. I drag the comb through his fringe and guide it to the length I want, opening up the blades in my other hand and hold it into position, ready for the first cut.

I slam the scissors shut in surprise, my hips jerking forward as I feel his hands tickling the inside of my thighs. He starts at the back of my knees but quickly heads higher, ending up just under his shirt and cupping my bare behind.

"Hey!" I squeal at him, his fingers fondling me. "No accosting the help!" He continues, ignoring me and spreading my cheeks apart. I wriggle my hips from side to side to move him away but he tightens his hold. "If I fuck this up then it's your fault! You'll have no one to blame!"

"I'm not the one who has to look at it." He rolls his shoulders. "So, really, it's in _your_ best interest to not fuck this up, for use of your tasteful and elegant words."

I chastise him again, his eyes glued to the front of the shirt, much to his amazement the front rising higher as he fondles me from behind, my privates now partially exposed.

I try to ignore his efforts of distracting me, his playful intentions clear as he begins to trail his fingers from my behind around to my sex. I trap my lip between my teeth as he strokes me, his teasing fingers brushing lightly up and down my folds, the contact gentle but still enough for my insides to twist.

_Play him at this own game_! I repeat to myself, telling myself to ignore him and not give into his temptations.

I pull back from him, aiming to move completely out of his hold in order to reprimand him but he moves quicker than I can, his legs snapping to a close and holding me in place. He locks his ankles behind me, squeezing his thighs hard and trapping me where I am. I drop my hands to my hips in defiance, raising my eyebrow to him.

"What?" He stares up at me innocently, like a child who's had his fingers caught in the cookie jar.

_No cookie jar here, just your…_

"I thought women were supposed to be good at multitasking? There's substantial evidence to back those claims up." He taunts him, his hands moving up to my hips, his arms slotting through the gaps in mine.

"We are. However, I sincerely doubt that any experiments carried out to prove this theory resulted in the test subjects being harassed by wayward men!"

"_Wayward_?" He repeats my word choice, flicking the word around his tongue with questioning.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Did I confuse you _Sir_? Would _naughty_ be a more befitting description for your innocent, delicate mind?" I tease him.

"Oh Mrs Grey. You and your smart mouth…" He trails off, linking his fingers together and pulling me toward him, his hands pressing into the small of my spine.

"Are you going to allow me to finish up? Or do you want me to leave it the way it is? I heard the reverse mullet is in."

"If you must."

He releases me with a sigh, his thighs loosening their hold of me but still remaining shut and keeping me from escaping all together. He unhooks his hands from my back and drops them to his lap, his fingers now centralised to stroking a spot just above each knee. I thank him, turning back to combing through his half finished hair, preparing the next section for its brawl with the silver blades in my hand.

I try my hand at striking up a conversation in order to distract him from wanting to distract me, but there's only one thing sitting at the forefront of my mind. Just one thing that has been niggling me since I read it in his letter two days ago.

"Can I ask you something?" I hesitate, my words stumbling out as I drag the comb through a couple more times with a section I have already cut.

"Shoot."

"In your letter –" I pause, tensing up slightly. "You said that you were going to tell me where you were… when I ran off."

"I think you'll find that you drove off. But yes, I did write that." He brushes it off in only the way that he can, but this time no level of arrogance or control lingering. "You read the letter?"

"Of course I did!" I pull away from him, lowering myself to his level and dropping my hands to his lap to steady myself as I bend down. "Of course I read it. Christian, I can't even… when I read it I just –"

"I know." He silences me with just two words, his eyes boring into mine; they're comforting and full of sincerity. "You don't need to explain it to me. I know already." His lips curl into a smile. "And I did tell you that I would explain where I was. Do you want to know?"

"Yes."

He sighs, lifting his fingers to his face and rubbing his eyes hard. He shifts in his chair, sitting up straighter than before. He looks uncomfortable. I turn my attention back to his hair, worried that my eyes might put him off - that maybe it'll come across that I'm interrogating him or something.

"I had just finished in the gym and was heading upstairs when Gail stopped me. She said that my Dad had just called and he wanted me to get back to him as soon as. I just carried on as I was, telling her that I would call him later but she told he was insistent… that it was 'important'."

His hands leave me completely, moving to his lap. His palms lying flat against his thighs.

"I went straight to my office and called him. I didn't have a fucking clue what had happened, naturally the worst coming into my mind. I thought maybe it was Mom or Mia or Elliot. He told me that I needed to be sitting to hear what he had to say which made it worse. I fucking flipped and shouted for him to tell me what was wrong. After a few choices words he did."

I brush out his natural parting, lowering my eyes momentarily to examine his face: his lips turning white under the strain of his pressing them together.

"A week or so ago Hyde had his trial, we were just pending the verdict. Dad was at the courts that morning because we couldn't attend. I wasn't going to allow you to be there and I sure as hell didn't want to be anywhere near that fucker! Dad said that the jury found him guilty on all charges… one account of attempted kidnap, one account of false imprisonment, blackmail and then grievous bodily harm with intent – for what he did to you."

He spits out his disgust, hatred and anger over Hyde through his teeth, his jaw twitching as the venom trips off his tongue. He takes a moment to recover himself, taking in a few deep, long breaths to calm himself but he carries on in spite of the anger still hovering around him.

"That fucking bitch I hired to sort this out fucked up. His defence put in a last minute plea claiming that he acted through insanity. For fucks sake, there is no way that fucker is more fucked up in the head than I am! And the fucking hilarity of it is that that bunch of jumped up pricks believed it. His defence managed to get a quack to say he was mentally unhinged due to depression stemming from his jealousy of me."

He continues, staring down at his hands and ignoring my fingers continuing to fuss with his hair. I try to keep as still as possible to not disturb him too much or upset him.

"The judge pardoned him because of it, said he needed professional help. They released him from the cell he should be rotting away in and moved him to a psychiatric hospital less than two hours from home! Out of all the hospitals they choose one close to us! Bastards... He's allowed to serve out his sentence from there with the time he's already served tied in and going in his favour."

"How long was he given?" I ask tentatively.

"Fifteen. Fifteen stupid fucking years!" He snaps, slamming his hands down on his thighs. "The best of it is, is that bastard got two years for trying to kidnap you and for taking Mia, _eight_ years for blackmail but what really fucks me off is that he got five for attacking you! Five fucking years! He deserves life!"

I freeze; his anger scaring and worrying me. I can't reply to him because I have no idea what to say. After a long sigh he drops his shoulders, relaxing a little.

"I hung up on Dad and got straight on to hospital he was moved to, but not before I fired fuck into that prick of a lawyer - needless to say that that fucking bitch will never work on the West coast again, as long as I have something to do with it!" He chuckles to himself, the power going straight to his head. "You know they hadn't even provided security to watch over him? They decided to send him to the lowest security hospital in the fucking country! I tried to find you when I knew all of this because I wanted you to hear it first, but that's when I knew you were gone."

I try to mumble my apology to him again, reliving my actions from that day, but he continues and ignores me.

"I thought you were gone, that you had left me completely but when I checked your things I knew you had left on a whim, but that just sent me fucking crazy. He was out there and you were out there –" He trails off, throwing his head back with his eyes slammed shut. He opens them slowly after a breath or two, opening them to me. "I sent Taylor to get you when I knew where you were so I could go to the hospital. I'm sorry for the way I acted but I just –"

"Shhh…" I soothe him, cupping his face in my palms and forcing him to look at me. I push the scissors away from his face to stop the blades from touching him. "I know. You were scared. You were thinking on your feet. I was the one who shouldn't have acted the way I did."

"You had every right to after the way I spoke to you earlier that day. I knew straight away that I fucked up but I was in over my head, I just couldn't leave until the back-up team arrived."

"_Back-up team_?"

"I've forked out to have a round the clock team watch over him and make sure that he rots away in that hell hole." He shakes his head as if to wipe out a thought crossing his mind, a grin teasing his lips. I joust him to let me in on his private joke. "That prick won't even be able to bash one out without having three fucking huge son-of-a-bitches watching over him!"

I smile more so for his benefit than through his remark bringing any genuine emotion to my face.

"So, there's no way that he can…" I trail off, unable to say it out loud.

"None whatsoever. He'd have to be fucking Houdini to get out. You're safe. You both are." He rolls his head to the side to kiss my hand clamping hold of his cheek, his way of calming me, sensing the panic residing in me no matter how hard I tried to hide it from him.

"I'm more worried about you and the baby. I couldn't…. If anything were to happen to you, I'd give up."

"Shhh, baby… I'm stronger than I look." He throws back to me words I have offered him several times in our time together. Leaning forward his presses his lips to my bump but resumes his position after a second, gesturing me to continue with his hair.

I salute him, a giggle escaping as I turn my eyes from his. It takes a matter of minutes to finish cutting the remaining few sections and bringing my CEO into the room – a far cry away from the hippy that entered!

I brush through it once more and part it in the way he prefers before taking the towel to dry it a little further, then standing back to admire my masterpiece and downing my tools.

"Done!"

He leaps up from the chair moving around me to stand in front of the counter to check out his hair in the mirror. He tries to hide his smile at first but fails as he examines his hair from all angles.

"Perfect."

He twists his body, swinging back to me to kiss me before returning back to the mirror and admiring my work. I shake my head in amusement and make a start on clearing everything away, starting with the scissors. I slide them into their holder and zip up the bag, shoving it to one side and then trying to clear up the towel and soap suds from around the basin. My attempts are floored from being pulled backwards against his chest, his hands wrapped firmly around my shoulders, pinning my arms to my sides with his nose embedded into the side of my neck.

"What's up?" I ask him, tilting my head to the side to allow him to nuzzle into my neck.

"It's perfect. Everything's the way it should be. I have you back, and I'm never letting you go. I mean it, I'm never letting go!"

"I'm not going anywhere." I whisper to him. "I swear on both of your lives. You're stuck with me."

He embraces me tightly, squeezing as he drinks me in, sniffing my hair and kissing the side of my neck, a place that would never strike me as being one of those spots that sends me crazy but I tend to think that maybe it's just Christian and his masterful ways that causes this.

"What's the plan for tomorrow?" He purrs, his lips moving along my collarbone.

"Same old routine… wake up, eat, go to work and eat some more… doctor's office, go home to eat and then sleep…" I find it hard to communicate in free flowing sentences with his lips on me. "But I'm hoping to schedule in some vanilla time somewhere in the day." I press my behind into him emphasising my point but it's unnecessary.

"Oh, there is always time for vanilla. But other than that it sounds enthralling." He retorts, a sardonic undercurrent in his voice.

"It should be. I've got Kate's induction tomorrow morning."

"What?!"

I peel my ear away from him, his voice loud and blaring. "What?" I ask him quietly, pulling my hand up to my ear for protection from the ringing.

"Kate? Kate's coming to work for you?" His hands drop to his sides rapidly, releasing me in a flash. "Kate… the woman with intentions of marrying my idiot of a brother?"

"Yes… is that a problem?" I ask hesitantly.

_Oh, fuck… I thought he wasn't going to do this anymore?_

"Yes." He snaps. I spin on my heel to face him. "A big problem."

"But she –"

"I asked her to come and work for me. I laid the best fucking job I could on a silver platter!"

I relax, his face softening a little. "Ah well, seems she had a better offer. One she couldn't refuse." I wink at him, poking his abdomen in jest.

"You… You stole her." He taps the tip of my nose with his finger, towering over me at his great height. "You stole her."

"All's fair in love and war."

"Oh, is it now?" He smirks that boyish grin of his, the one that hides the mischievous thought in his eyes.

In a second he stoops, lifting me off my feet and into his arms. He carries me high against him with ease, as if I weigh no more than a feather when in reality I'm more like a hippo. I protest and squeal, thrashing for him to drop me but he continues walking through to the bedroom until he deposits me on the bed. He throws me down onto the mattress, following close behind me and crawling on all fours to meet me. I wriggle, pushing myself higher up the bed toward the headboard somewhere behind me.

"You stole something right from under my nose." He breathes heavily, full of seduction and fire.

"Wouldn't be the first time." I pant, twisting my head to the side as I slam into the headboard. Before I have time to register anything he takes me, grabbing my wrists and pinning my hands to my sides.

"How so?" He cocks his head to me.

"You said I stole your heart." I writhe, rolling my wrists under his heavy and powerful grasp, unable to move.

"Indeed you have, but I see no harm in that because I have one… _right here_." Lifting my left arm, my hand falling limp in his hold, he lowers it down onto my chest – onto my heart. He follows suit with my right hand, raising it from my side but this time moving it to lie on top of my stomach, his hand covering mine protectively. "And we have one right here."

"I love you." I mutter to him, these being the only words in my mind and mouth collectively.

"Ditto."

* * *

I yawn, stretching my arms and legs out into straight lines, for the first time grateful for the emptiness surrounding me as I try to unhinge the tension and stiffness setting in my joints.

I feel spent in more than one way.

We rolled around for hours, shifting positions in our carnal, raw session of trying to fuck each other senseless. It was one climax after another with neither of us willing to give in, the result being that no soon as we finished, it started all over again. Each time he was up and rearing to go – I mean, anyone would have thought he'd taken something in order to keep it up for so long but no, that's just my Mr Sexpertise!

It was as if he wasn't satisfied with the previous Earth-shattering explosion, needing more from me. Always needing more. It had been days since we had touched in this way, maybe even a week in total but it felt so much longer. I can't deny that in those days I was unwilling and had no desires for sex, I was too wrapped in the drama surrounding us to care but my need for him was always there, hidden but still there. Knowing that I had him back, here with me in every sense of the word set me on fire, those celestial flames burning brighter and rising higher than ever before. We were whole again; the two final pieces of the jigsaw slotting together. We are whole again.

This wasn't just sex between man and wife; this was love at its most raw concept.

Our afternoon of love came to an end only when I was unable to keep my eyes open any more, shattered from the inside out and, quite frankly I was sore. I was aching harder than I did after we had sex for the first time, when I lost my virginity. I was forced to remain on top, this now being the most accessible position for us now that Blip is causing a slight disruption to our exploits, but being on top isn't the most comfortable of positions for me. My hips started to seize up and became stiff to the point where I couldn't move anymore; instead I lifted myself from him and forced him to provide the rise and fall, his hips slamming into me with each thrust. My knees were starting to chaff against the sheets from rocking back and forth repeatedly.

I just couldn't continue. I needed to sleep and recharge my drained and sore battery. I rolled off his chest and fell onto my side, curling around a pillow and giving in to hibernation mode. I didn't register anything after that – not Christian draping a sheet around me, or his body curling around my foetal position. Nothing at all. I was out for the count.

As I rouse from my sleep I feel sedated and euphoric. I have no idea how long I have slept for, the blinds shut and the room glowing a gentle yellow hue. Turning over to my other side I yawn, stretching out my neck and coming face to face with my husband, now sat on the edge of the bed watching me.

He's freshly dressed in a pair of dark jeans and a white linen shirt. He has my favourite smile on his lips, with his newly cut but always just fucked hair bouncing all shades of copper from the lamp next to the bed.

"It's time to get up baby." He whispers calmly, reaching down to kiss me. "We're leaving in thirty minutes."

I moan, falling back against the pillow behind my head and throwing my arms over my face to hide.

"Ana, I've let you sleep in for as long as possible." He presses me again, his hand patting my shoulder to rouse me, forcing my eyes to meet his. Behind his wide greys hides that, 'I will drag you from this bed if you don't get up' sort of look that he offers so well. Of course, the saddest part of all is that I know he would and that he wouldn't stop there – he'd throw me under a freezing cold showerhead.

I give in, complaining but shuffling down the length of the bed and throwing back the sheets in disgust. I rise to my feet and stumble across the room toward the en-suite. As I meet the doorway I freeze. _No, he can't be serious?_ I spin on my heel, glaring back at him and rubbing my head.

"How long do I have?"

"Twenty-eight minutes." He reels off, glancing down at his watch.

"I haven't even packed yet!"

"It's done. I've sorted it for you. All you need to do is get ready and we can leave."

"You packed?" I question him, my voice hitching slightly in the latter part.

"It genuinely wounds me that you're shocked by that." He clasps his heart through his shirt, his sarcasm filtering through his voice loud and clear.

"You know, they say sarcasm is the lowest form of wit." I remind him, stepping inside the bathroom and pushing the door to ajar behind me.

"Yes, but the only people who say that are those that do not appreciate the hilarity of the said sarcasm."

_Fuck you, smartass! _I mouth to myself, grinning from ear to ear. _Okay, you can take that one!_

I shuffle along the tiled floors and make my way over to the toilet. I deliberately left the door open slightly, knowing that I need to get over this weird 'no peeing' thing. I try to remind myself that it's natural, that he's done all sorts of kinky shit to me and he will see much worse at some point in the future. I try to strike up a conversation to help block out the noises coming from in here, but more so to help me through this in a calm manner.

"How are we heading home?"

Christian calls out to me, his voice edging closer to the door but thankfully only his shadow emerges through the gap. "We can take Charlie Tango. I brought her down here so it makes sense to take her back to Seattle."

"I'm not going in the helicopter." I object.

_I point blank refuse to get in that thing!_

"Ana –"

"I'm sorry but I can't. I loved Charlie Tango. I have fond memories but now they're all tainted."

I flush the toilet and quickly wash my hands before opening the door to him, turning back to the basin to brush my teeth. I ignore my nakedness in the mirror, a stark difference to his full attire standing directly behind me.

"You almost died while in that thing. I can't get that out of my head." I answer him honestly; answering his unaired question.

"But she's been fixed, and she's certified safe for travel."

"I know but I can't wipe it away. I'm sorry." I shake my head, refusing to look at him. The memory from that night is painful even now.

He hesitates for a second, waiting for the air to pass and for my eyes to clear from the water building up before asking me the most prudent question of all.

"Is it Charlie Tango specifically or flying in general?"

"Charlie Tango." I whisper without hesitance. "Christian, you're a safe pilot and I trust you when you're flying. I trust you more than anyone."

"So, flying's not the issue?" I shake my head. "Would you be happier if I got a new helicopter?"

"You can't just get a new helicopter because I've whinged about the one you already have!" I huff, clearly forgetting who I am talking to, turning to a different tactic. "Besides, you love Charlie Tango."

"Baby, she's not the first helicopter I've had and she won't be the last. I want you be happy, and to feel at ease when I'm flying whether you're there or not." He moves closer to my back, slipping his arms around me – cocooning me. "I'll have a look around. There are a few models I've had my eye on for a while now."

"Are you sure?"

"One hundred per cent. Now, you better get a move on. It's going to take longer to drive back and I want to be home before sundown."

"I prefer the drive anyway." I answer him off the cuff, looking up at him through the mirror. "I can't exactly cuddle you if you're flying now, can I?"

"Point well made. Now get ready." He snorts, kissing my cheek and leaving me in peace.

* * *

After sprinkling my face with water, cleaning my teeth and tying my hair back I moved back to the bedroom, a pair of jeans and a t-shirt laid out on the bed for me. I smiled taking them in my hands; one of my newer maternity underwear sets lying underneath and one of his cashmere's beside them. Christian had left his sweater for me to throw on rather than simply leaving out my jacket. He knows I love his smell. I stood there for a while just breathing in the fabric, the heavenly scent turning my mind to mush. I could easily stand there all day taking it in. It's not the usual mix of body wash and cologne, it's just eau de Christian Grey. It's his unique and signature scent. When people talk about homely smells they often think of fresh bread, coffee, maybe even baby shampoo but for me it will always be Mr Grey's finest.

I dressed quickly and threw my wash bag into his open holdall. Slipping into my converse I smoothed down my t-shirt, and started my examination of the rooms. I needed to make my way through each of the rooms just to make sure that everything was, indeed, taken care off. It's not that I don't trust him; I just needed to check for my own peace of mind. I paid close attention to the spot where my suitcase has lived for these past few days I have been here. I dropped to my knees to look under each of the cabinets, checking that nothing had rolled underneath and would otherwise go undetected. Ticking off this section of the room I rose to my feet again, pushing off the table in front of me. I was thankful to see the picture and lamp I sent flying in my one woman hotel trashing spree are now safely back in their rightful place and that they are still intact.

Clearing the bathroom and bedroom, leaving them as they were when I arrived, I head out to the sitting area. These were the only rooms we've used; the only rooms I've used. I enter seeing Christian pacing the floors, his beloved BlackBerry glued to his hand. He's been in here a while, waiting for me. I smiled at him hastily as I continue fleeting around the room, dropping low to check the floors carefully.

"Do you have no faith in my ability to pack?"

I lift my head to him, startled. He's standing on the other side of the couch, near the fireplace, mumbling to me with a hardened expression stretching across his face.

"No, I do. I just… Just call it the Mommy in me!" I blurt out to him. He nods, a brief smile fleeting over his lips before his attention floods back to his phone.

I continue around the room, settling when I find that nothing of ours is lying around. I could hear the Hallelujah chorus playing around him as he threw his head back to the heavens, smiling when I finally gave him the nod to tell him I was ready to leave. I took one glance around, checking over the suite as I slipped my hand in his to leave. A buzz trickles through me knowing that our suite has been restored to its usual and beloved nature. This is a room we share with love, compassion and lust, but it was threatened by my arrival. Our relationship was in jeopardy. All it would have taken was a flicker of a pen over the dotted line and that would have been the end. I came close to losing him, no fault of my own but he's still here. He needs me as much as I need him. We're stronger together than we are apart and that is how it will remain. I'm never losing him. Never.

We head out of the suite to meet Taylor waiting patiently for us in the hall. He offers the usual singular nod of his head to Christian standing behind me, but gives a small smile to me. I thanked him privately once more for everything he has done for me. Being the gentleman he is he shrugged it off, telling that it's part and party to the job. I didn't argue or object to this because I saw no point – he would only refuse to accept my thanks. I know he has probably dealt with a lot of Christian's crap over the years but I've taken his patience and strengths to new levels. I'm like a whirlwind fucking everything up. I chastise myself for being so ignorant to others around me. It isn't about me anymore – I have Blip, Christian, my families and my close body of supporters to think about.

Taylor remains by our side, escorting us down to the lobby floor. He moved to stand with his back to us in the elevator; I smile but blush thinking maybe he knows our small issue with elevator carts. I curl under Christian's arm, wrapping my arm around his back with his arm wrapped around me and hugging me close to him. With Taylor present all ambitions of sneaking in a quickie or a fondle fly out of the window, but still the urge is there. I swear I could feel Christian chuckle as that thought flicked through my mind. I will never understand his ability to do that. Sometimes I wonder whether it's a good thing or bad, settling on the first for ease of mind. My smile remains as the cart descends toward the ground floor, opening out onto the bustling reception floor. An influx of professionals and suits float around, a perfect reminder of the closing of yet another busy and long working day.

Taylor leaves our side to head out front to check on Sawyer and the car, making sure that our things are stowed away in the back. He stalks off in a brisk, utilitarian manner exiting through the side door out to the pavement. Christian and I take it slow as we wander across the lobby, the waves parting around us and Hollywood smiles beaming as we glide hand in hand. At my side stands a younger, happier and refreshed man, a far cry from the mess I left on our driveway. We do the same as Taylor, deciding to take the side door rather than the revolving so that we don't have to loosen our hold of each other, this small contact meaning so much to me.

We step out into the breeze, heading toward the idling SUV next to the sidewalk but we're halted in our tracks, a voice calling us back from the door we just exited through.

"Mr and Mrs Grey?" The pest of a voice squeaks out to us. My eyes widen in surprise seeing the tall, slender young male heading our way – his voice is pitched perfectly for a woman, not an otherwise masculine gentleman. "Excuse me."

"What?" Christian snaps as we turn; frustration evident in his tone.

_Oh, Mr Mercurial, how pleasant to meet with you again…_

"Mrs Grey…" He wheezes, out of breath and stuttering. "These were left at the desk for you…" He extends his hand. I accept, taking whatever it is in my palm.

Looking down at my hand I examine the metal object rattling as I roll it around. It's surprisingly heavy but familiar, a very familiar weight. I toy with them until my mind finally registers what they are: my keys.

"How did these…" I trail off in confusion.

"Someone saw you drop them earlier today. They tried to return them but couldn't find you. They handed them to the concierge on their way out."

"I'm sorry, but I don't… They knew who I was?" I'm startled and concerned. Yes, I've braced the covers of a few magazines and featured in the local newspapers but still, I can usually go undetected if I'm away from Christian's side. He's my biggest giveaway.

"No, they just said what you looked like, what you were wearing and our concierge knew who they were referring to." He tells us, pointing back to the considerably older man waiting by the door to greet visitors to the Heathman. "They are yours, aren't they?" He questions, my reaction clearly not the one he was expecting.

I nod my head glancing down at them again. Of course they're mine. They're recognisable simply by the small silver heart-shaped key ring attached to the five or so keys. My key ring was a gift from Christian – the faces engraved with CTG in a delicate script.

"Yes, they're mine. Thank you for returning them." I smile, handing them to Christian for him to shove into his pocket – my maternity jeans only adorning back pockets. Sometimes I wonder why I even have keys of my own, I rarely use them! I'm always accompanied by someone who carries their own set. Well, usually I am.

"You're welcome ma'am." He returns my smile, turning to Christian and offering his hand. He declines quickly, jerking his head to the side with a forced smile. The hotel worker redeems himself, his hand dropping to his side. "Sir."

He pushes away and heads back toward the hotel, leaving us to our devices. Christian pulls me into his side and guides me over to the car.

"I didn't know you lost your keys."

"Neither did I." I shrug. I have no idea how I could have dropped them, I haven't used them at all.

* * *

We didn't meet Christian's hopes for arriving home before sundown. We were on track to arrive home by six at the latest, but that was until my invader decided to play the hunger card as we drove past an in-and-out just off the highway. I was unable to shake off the need for a number four, my mind tricking me to think I could even smell it from inside the airtight metal cocoon. I called out to Taylor asking him to pull over, shrugging when Christian eyed me with perplexity. I answered him by rubbing my stomach, his eyes lighting up with amusement. As ever my inability to hold off my hunger, or Blip's hunger, is delightfully welcome to him – it's his way of knowing that I'm eating and not going hungry. I think he's finally understanding my point, in that I can't ignore it. I can't ignore his tyrant onslaught inside me. If he's hungry I eat, but if I try to force myself to down something I feel nauseous. I work by his schedule, no one else's.

When we finally arrived home I crawled my way up to bed, clambering the stairs as quick as I could with just the thoughts of curling under the covers and taking out my iPad to read one of the books installed on it. It seemed the best idea knowing that Christian was heading into his office for a little while; he needed to call Ros to debrief today's events having skipped work to head down to Portland to give me the biggest ultimatum of all. That was the worst night of my life, fearing I would lose him – only thing coming close to that being the thought of losing our baby.

I cleared five more chapters of Austen's _Emma_ before he joined me for the night. I shut down my iPad as soon as he came in, shoving it onto my bedside table. He pottered around changing into his pyjama pants before switching off the light and clambering into bed with me. I rolled onto my side and lifted my arm away from my body slightly, goading him to slip his under my own and hold me. I love being held before sleep. I feel at home having his face nuzzling into the back of my neck, his frame moulding around mine and his toes fidgeting with mine as his hand explores my stomach.

I'm not sure whether he was the same as me but I fell asleep quickly, drifting into a pleasant and peaceful slumber. I didn't stir once until I finally woke at 6:47AM. When I woke he was still there, wrapped around me in the same position we had fallen asleep in. Christian was still sound asleep when I woke. I twisted my head to the side to wake him with a morning kiss, a smile tripping from my lips to his as he finally roused peacefully without shock.

We showered in sync with one another – I washed his back, tracing his flexed muscles with my hands lathered up with body wash; he washed and conditioned my hair, and offered the same level of interest to my back, thighs and my behind in particular. I moved away from him, shaking my head with disappointment knowing that we only had a little time before needing to leave for work – we didn't have time for dressing, having breakfast and vanilla. Something had to be compromised and, well, Blip puts a halt on one suggestion, quickly followed by Christian, and we'd get incarcerated if we walked around bare to the elements. Neither of us was particularly assumed that vanilla was off the list for this morning, but I made a mental note of setting the alarm earlier than usual to schedule in our favourite way to start the day.

I changed quicker than Christian this morning, something beyond the ordinary. I threw on a light pink underwear set, shimmied into some stockings before slipping into my knee-length maroon sheath dress. I even had time to slip into my black pumps before Christian met my level of attire. I stood back and watched his biceps flex as he stepped into his grey slacks, tugging them up to his waist and fastening them swiftly. He threw on a typically white shirt and slipped on a black and grey striped tie. He looked perfect and very much the high-end CEO he is. He held my hand tightly was we headed downstairs in wake for the delicious smells creeping up from the kitchen. He made a shrewd comment on my heels, telling me that maybe I should think about waiting until I'm downstairs to put them on, the stiletto heel, steepness of the stairs and my uncanny ability for unbalance all adding up as reasonable evidence supporting his point. I nodded my head in agreement with all of his points – my heels are a little high and thin, my balance is unquestionable and I've already had slip ups on the stairs. Maybe it is a good idea to just leave all of my shoes down here? I could maybe put a rack by the door?

I grinned in anticipation for Gail's truly spectacular cooking. She really out did herself this morning, a mouth-watering combination of pancakes, crispy bacon and syrup stimulating my taste buds and spending Blip into a swirling frenzy. I swear IHOP couldn't beat this deliciousness sitting in front of me. I admired it for a few seconds before I devoured it. A large glass of icy cold Orange juice sat waiting next to my dish, ready for me to down it in between scrumptious bites.

"I'll be riding over to work with you this morning." Christian mumbles through a mouthful of his omelette, raising his napkin to wipe his lips then taking a sip from his steaming cup of coffee. "I have some paperwork I need to sign. Nothing too involved."

"You know, you don't have to do this Christian." I sit back away from the counter and twist my body to face him. "I just… I didn't mean it when I said that –"

"Ana, I'm a man of my word if nothing else. I meant everything I said. Plus, it's written in black and white. It's binding." He shrugs. Finishing up his coffee he pushes his plate away from him, jumping down from his stool and taking them over to the sink.

I clear my plate quickly and mimic him. Heading out of the kitchen I grab one of the croissants from the counter to eat on the way to my office. I glanced up at Christian, taking his hand in my other as we walked through the hall.

"A girl's gotta eat!" I tell him, a smirk residing on his lips.

"It's just fascinating, that's all. I swear by whatever forces are watching over us that I will keep you pregnant for the rest of your life, if it means you'll continue to eat as you have!"

"Can I ask that I'm given at least a year's break between all of these babies you expect me to pop out?" I grin, biting my lip in excitement imagining a dozen mini-Christian's running around the meadow in the spring air. It's a longshot – twelve seems a little extreme, but it's a lovely idea. I'd be happy with two, but I guess three was always the number I was thinking.

"I'll think about it. Come on, before we're late." He opens the door for me, grabbing his jacket and briefcase from the side on our way out to the car on the driveway.

* * *

Our drive over to Grey Publishing was quiet and rushed. I sat back in my seat, silent, as I tucked into my croissant. I listened to the morning news quietly muttering out of the sound system along with the repetitive tapping from Christian's BlackBerry. He types fast – very fast! He glanced over to me several times, my eyes boring a hole into his temples. Each time he looked up he threw over a genuine smile reflecting my own but rapidly turned his attention back to whatever he has doing. The look of utter concentration on his face tells me that it must be something important, so I leave him to it and turn my eyes to the road and watch the world drift by at a rather intense and heightened pace.

The journey all in all was shorter than usual, or at least it felt that way. It's a blessing to have Christian with me. More recently its always just me and Sawyer in the mornings, but having him here is a nice change and is something I could definitely get used to. Sawyer drove over with us, nothing surprising there. He left our side at the lobby door where he keeps post during the day. Taylor remained in the car waiting for Christian to return after tying up the loose ends he's here for.

"Escorting me to my door?" I nudge Christian with my elbow as he deposits me in my office.

"The last time I left you to walk somewhere on your own you were harassed. I think my heart would sincerely appreciate it if that didn't happen again."

"I wasn't harassed." I correct him, stepping closer to his chest and taking his tie between my fingers, stroking the length of it and lifting it away from his shirt. "Christian, it was a complete accident. He didn't mean to bump into me."

"He bumped you?!" He stills, his hand clasping around mine and stopping it from moving. "He bumped into you?" He repeats a thousand times slower this second time round.

"It was an accident. No harm done. I swear." I try to reassure him, wriggling my fingers under his hand.

"Ana –" He breathes my name into a sigh. "Please, try not to go all independent woman on me when I ask you this, but please, can you keep security with you at all times?"

"Taylor was around." I remind him, omitting the minor detail that he was across the floor from me and had his back turned for the most part of my encounter.

"Ana." His eyebrow rises with distress in his eyes.

"Okay." I mumble quietly to him, wrapping my arms under the lapels of his jacket and falling head on into his chest.

"_Really_?" I lift my head up to him, his eyes interrogating me. "It was really that easy?"

"You worry about me, and I don't like it when you worry. So, if I can't put up with a few suits hanging around me for the sake of my husband's nerves, then what type of girl does that make me?"

"Thank you." His fingers meet my scalp, stroking gently at the base of my skull. "Thank you."

"What are you thanking me for?" I shake my head. He doesn't need to thank me.

"Thank you for meeting me halfway on this. Thank you for being here with me. Thank you for being my perfect Ana."

I stare up at him, lost completely in our bubble. I'm falling weak at the knees, relying on his frame for support. "Thank you for being my perfect Christian." I mirror him, whispering and reaching up onto my toes, kissing him lightly. "I love you."

"And I you." He breathes onto my plump lips. "I love you. I have to go, and you need to get on."

"Will you come back before you leave?"

"I wouldn't dream of leaving without saying goodbye." He stoops down and kisses the tip of my nose. "I'll see you in a little while."

With this he pushes me back onto my heels, retreating out of my office and heading down the hall. The mass of employees rushing around trying to get to their desks before nine parts like the red sea as he heads straight. I stare after him, leaning against my doorframe, admiring the way his shoulders rolls slightly when he walks, the way he glides effortlessly oozing confidence with one hand in his pants pocket and the other swaying loosely at his side.

He is my perfection, and to be honest he is the perfection of many others as well, both male and female. I roll my eyes glancing around the room at the various eyes fixated on him, all of them gleaming with lust and passion. I break out into a wide smile as I notice Mark standing just shy of the elevator, his file clutched close to his chest. His lower lip is tugged between his teeth, his head shaking slowly from side to side as he mouths the words 'mighty fine' as he admires Christian's backside – his slacks complimenting one of his finer features flawlessly.

_Oh yes, that's my man…_

I tear myself away when he disappears from my eye line, stepping back into my office to get make a start on today's varied agenda. My day starts no soon as I land in my chair, Kate flying through my door and gliding into my office. She's all smiles with a huge grin across her lips, her pearly whites flashing at me with ease and excitement. She looks phenomenal in her slate pants suit, an off white shirt tucked into her slacks and hiding beneath her waistcoat.

"Good morning." She sings to me, dropping her purse to the floor and settling into the chair opposite me.

"Really? Since when are you morning a person?" I question her, recalling the countless mornings I would emerge from my room and find her slumped over the counter telling me shush. Kate was a nightmare without her caffeine fix, and right now she looks like she's hyped up on the stuff.

"Since I'm now employed. Honestly, good doesn't even begin to cover it!"

"You're happy to be here?"

"Ecstatic!" She grins, tearing her designer scarf from her neck. She dressed to kill this morning.

"I'm sorry I wasn't here earlier to meet with you." I apologise, suddenly remembering that I agreed to come in at quarter to the hour to meet her in the lobby and show her round the office.

"Don't sweat it! I met with your assistant and she showed me round. She's got great taste in shoes!"

I roll my eyes, Miss Mia Grey rubbing off on Kate. Though, I'm not surprised at all that she and Hannah have something in common. I always suspected that they would get along if they knew each other, but all I'm hoping for now is that they'll both be able to get some work done in between their undoubtedly plentiful conversations about shoes, fashion and men.

Kate twists in her chair, glancing around my room. "So, this is where you hide away?" I nod my head, taking in my décor. "It's smaller than I imagined."

I cock my examining her with a confused expression etched over my face. "What do you mean?"

"This is Christian we're talking about. I'm just surprised he hasn't ripped out these walls and made the whole floor your office!"

"I like it the way it is. And, it's not his office." I roll my shoulders and lean back in my chair. "I'd feel uncomfortable in a big room all on my own."

"It's very Ana." She nods with a smile. I guess that's something you can't deny, this room suits me. It suits my needs and purposes without exaggerating affluence.

Kate dips to her purse on the floor and pulls out a notepad. She whacks it onto my desk and stretches over to steal one of my pens.

"So, where are you starting boss?"

"First things first - no boss. Just Ana." I smile. I hate to be anything other than Ana at work. I like the casualness of it.

I turn over to my computer and open up the file I have prepared ready for the induction of new employees.

We breeze through the basics at a rapid pace. I was surprised to see how quickly she picked up what I was saying. I shouldn't have in retrospect; Kate's got a good memory and can pick things up in a flash. She doesn't need to be shown anything twice, something that employers love and crave for. I know a lot of people will be shocked and horrified thinking that anyone would be stupid enough to let her go, but I know the truth. It's one thing for that fucking bitch to fuck with me and Christian, but she's messed with my family and that's a new low. Kate might not be family yet, well not until Elliot puts that ring on her finger, but she's been more than just my friend – she's the sister I never had and I love her. It pains me that she's been caught in Elena's crossfire. I hate her more than usual for this.

After twenty minutes of me reeling off some basic notes and Kate um-ing and ah-ing she throws her pen onto her notepad, falling back in her chair.

"I think I've got it. Whatever I don't know I'm sure I'll figure it out for myself."

I snort. I know she will! She's like a chameleon. She can adapt and fit in anywhere she goes, constantly flowing through life with ease and comfort.

"I know, all that's left now is for you to –"

I'm silenced, distracted by the two gentle knocks on my door. It opens before I have time to beckon the visitor in.

"I do apologise for interrupting, but could I possibly steal a minute?"

I break into a grin as Christian glides into my room, the door swinging open. His jackets flung over his shoulder in that casual, sexy way that rocks my world. His greys meet with Kate's wide and glistening greens first, pulling away and meeting mine.

"Sure, I'll just go and fetch some coffee. Ana, you want some?" Kate lifts from her chair, smoothing down her slacks and tugging her waistcoat into place.

"Can I get a tea?" I ask. God, even the idea of drinking coffee makes my stomach twist!

"Christian?" She turns to him after nodding her head to me and remembering my love for Twinings.

"Oh, no thank you. I'm not staying long." He smiles and moves from the doorway, holding it open for her and closing it silently as she exits.

I push out of my chair and meet him across my desk, my hands wrapping around his back and pulling him into a hug. He holds me and walks me backwards toward my chair where he falls back into it, pulling me up into his lap. I shift to perch myself on his thighs, flinging my legs over the arm of my chair.

"You like sitting behind my desk?" I ask, watching him admire my room.

"I like sitting in your chair." He corrects me. "But I like it even better when you're on top of me… or when you're on your knees –"

"Do you ever think of anything else?!" I exclaim, pressing my elbow into his stomach.

"You want me just as much as I want you. I know you do." He answers me, his hand starting to caress my leg. "Now, I do have a genuine reason for disturbing you, other than saying goodbye. When's our appointment?"

"Oh." I pull my legs back and wriggle in his lap, stretching over to my computer and firing up my calendar. I scroll through the list of events until I find the one flagged under high importance at the bottom. "Three o'clock."

"Good. I'll swing by and get you at two-fifteen."

He moves beneath me, lifting me from his lap all together and following my lead in rising to his feet. I keep hold of his hand as we walk around my desk, heading over to my door. I take him in my arms again, embracing him just once more until I see him next. I know he has to head over to his own office but I'll miss him. I miss him when we're separated by only a paper thin wall, having him across town from me is a nightmare.

Cupping my chin and lifting my face from his chest he grabs my gaze. "How would you feel about getting away for a couple of days?"

"Huh?" I mumble.

"How would you feel about getting out of the city for a few days? Just you and me, alone, to enjoy some quiet time." He clarifies to me his point, an excellent point at that.

"Hmm… sounds lovely." I purr. That idea really is striking up a chord inside me. I couldn't imagine anything better than having him to myself for two or three days.

"Good."

He dips to bring his lips to mine, his tongue flirting with my lips and parting them so he can slide inside. His tongue finds mine eagerly, an Argentine tango erupting to life in my mouth. I groan loudly, the sound leaving my mouth and seeping into his. It spurs him on, his hand trailing down my spine and reaching my behind. He cups me and pushes my hips forward and into his. I fist my fingers in his hair and tug him down to me as our tongues dance and our lips caress each other.

"Seriously?!"

I pull back from him immediately, my cheeks flushing crimson as the voice mocking annoyance emerges into the doorway next to us. My eyes fall straight to my feet, embarrassment taking over me, before I lift them and meet with Kate. She lowers to two cups to my desk and crosses her arms around her front. Her sun-kissed blonde hair is wrapped into a twist hanging over her left shoulder.

"I'm leaving!"

Christian lifts his arms in defiance, apologising to Kate for the PDA. He dips once again to kiss me lightly before leaving, calling back my favourite utterance as he shut the door behind him.

"Laters baby."

I break into a giggle as Kate rolls her eyes at us.

For the rest of the morning I threw myself into my work, needing a distraction from Christian and anxiously counting down until we meet again and have the opportunity to check on Blip's progress. I found myself clock watching for a while so ended up sticking a post-it note to my screen, covering up the time. It takes a lot of resistance to not check it and even more to stop myself from contacting Christian. I love nothing more than helplessly opening up my emails to find a new one from him.

I open up my drawer and pull out a wad of manuscripts I was meant to pass on to Mark and Hannah, to divide between the three of us to save time. I take a larger pile for myself and then hand the rest to Kate, asking her to go through one or two herself – nothing that will overwhelm her – and then divide the rest between Hannah and Mark.

I need a distraction.

* * *

"Good Afternoon Ana. Christian."

Dr Greene comes bursting into the room, extending her hand to me as I climb up onto the bed. I tug the gown at around as I position myself low down, anticipating and dreading what will follow.

"How are you feeling? Any concerns? Aches or pains?" She asks me, lowering herself onto the stool beside her desk and dragging it along the floor to meet my side. Christian is standing at my other, his fingers intertwined with mine.

"No. Everything's fine."

"That's great to hear. Now, the last time I saw you was just after you had your fail. You bled a little immediately after, did it continue for long?" She flicks through my file, recalling the last time I was here.

"No, it stopped that night."

"Perfect. Have you felt the baby moving at all?"

My hand moves to my stomach naturally. I rub him lightly in a circle as I answer her. "I've had flutters but no kicking or anything like that."

A silence grows around us, just a second or two but it feels much longer. Christian's fingers flex against mine. I lift my head to him, taking in the hardness of his expression. It worries me.

"Christian?" I tug at his hand trying to get him to look at me.

"Is that normal?" He whispers, his voice cold. His eyes are glued to Dr Greene as she runs through my papers.

She lifts her head to us, her slightly reddened lips part into a weak smile – an attempt of quashing the horror crossing his face and the worry settling on mine.

"Yes, of course it is. I didn't mean to concern you at all, I was just curious."

She pushes the file to the desk and lifts herself from the stool, moving over to my side and grabbing my attention.

"Every pregnancy is different and the first is always the most interesting to examine, especially in terms of dates and events. It's hard to pinpoint when it will happen. Some women find that they don't feel anything of significance until the halfway marker. I wouldn't stress over it. The baby will move when he's ready, and I can assure you that when he does he will undoubtedly keep you awake at night. Babies have no sense of time!"

I have two and a half weeks until I reach twenty weeks – the halfway mark. I'm eager to feel him. I want to feel him kick me, punch my sides. I'm even looking forward to having him catching my ribs – something I read from one of the baby-parent websites I found online. It sounds painful but I can't wait. I want to experience everything.

"Right, let's get this show on the road. I just need you to lie back so I can cover you with this sheet."

I question her with my eyes, gingerly lying back as she lifts the blue wrap from the end of the bed. She unfolds it and drapes it over my legs, pulling it up to my stomach and then folding it down slightly to sit just below my bump.

"Ana, I'm going to need you to lift your gown. We're able to carry out the sonogram abdominally now that baby's a little bigger."

I breathe a sigh of relief. Nothing is more uncomfortable and embarrassing than having something pushed up into you.

_You weren't saying that yesterday! _

My subconscious chimes in from the spare chair sitting at the other end of the room, looking up at me over her half-moon spectacles as she reads my pretty much untouched copy of 'What to expect when you're expecting.'

I lift my gown and expose my bump. She warns me of the coolness of the lubrication before she applied it but it was still a shock to my system. I jolted a little as she squirted some onto my stomach just below my navel. _Where do they keep that stuff? The refrigerator?!_

She moves back to her stool and pulls the sonogram machine closer to the bed. It takes her a while to find a clear shot of him, moving the scanner around my lower stomach and pressing in quite hard until she brought our attention to the screen.

"And, there's your baby." She smiles, freezing the shot.

There he is. He's exactly the same as the last time I saw him, but a ton bigger! I can see his eyes. It looks like he's staring straight as us, waving to us with his fist pulled up to his face. I can see his little stomach. He looks chubby already. He looks perfect.

I lift my eyes to Christian, his face unreadable. His eyes are wide and glassy, teary even. He's stunned by Blip's beauty for a few moments before breaking out into a heartfelt smile.

Dr Greene allows us a second to compose ourselves, asking us if we would like to know the sex. I jerked my head to her. _She knows what we're having_?! I rolled my head over to Christian, looking for my answer. He just whispered that it's my decision – he's happy to wait if I want to, but just as happy to know for sure. I toyed with the idea for a few seconds until my subconscious slapped my dream across my face. I want to wait. I want to look at him as I'm bringing him into the world and see for myself, in that second what he is… or she.

"Everything's looking fine to me. The baby's growing as expected. Their heart is beating nice and fast in a good rhythm. Everything's great."

She lifts the scanner away from me and hands me a paper towel to wipe up the lubricant smeared all over my stomach. We ask her for multiple copies, the same thought running through our minds as we ask her in sync with one another.

I try to climb off the bed and head out to the bathroom to change back into my clothes but she stops me.

"Not so fast! I just need to take your blood pressure before you leave."

I nod my head and push back to my previous position. I lift the small sleeve of my gown to allow her to slip the cuff around my arm. It swells quickly, smothering my arm when she flicked a button on her machine. I panicked at first, my arm growing extremely tight almost to the point where I thought my arm might explode. She loosened it noticing the grimace on my face, smiling and turning her attention to the machine as my blood pressure is registering.

"Hmm…" She murmurs, checking the monitor twice before releasing the cuff from my arm.

"That doesn't sound good." I mutter, pushing up on the bed to sit. "Is there a problem?"

"Maybe."

Her word cuts through me.

_What does maybe mean?_

"Your blood pressure is higher than I want it. It's slightly higher than where I would expect it to lie."

"How much so?" Christian butts in, standing hard and straight beside me. I turn my head to him, his eyes narrowing. "Is it a problem?"

"I won't lie to you. It could be." She pushes her hands to her hips, moving her white jacket away from her front. Her eyes are glued solely to me, Christian's harsh glare too much for her to take in. "At the moment it's only slightly higher than the level typical for your height and weight. Right now it's not that much of a huge issue, but it will if it continues to increase. If it does then we seriously need to look into implementing ways to reduce it."

"Surely we need to reduce it now? As a precaution at least?!" His voice is growing tense and full of concern. To most people it comes across as anger, but I know him. This is worry.

"Of course, that would be the ideal outcome."

"So how does Ana do that?" He corrects himself. "How can we reduce it?"

"Light exercise. Nothing too heavy, especially if you're not used to it. Yoga and Pilates are good, as long as you take a beginners course and know your limits." She pauses handing me a pamphlet with some contact details on the back. I stretch out to take it but Christian takes it first. "Ana, you need to keep on top of your vitamins and make sure that your diet is varied and covers all food groups, but I would say the main and easiest thing to do is try and keep calm. Stress is the most likely cause behind this. I know you work in a high position so maybe it's time to start thinking about slowing down?"

I nod my head to her but refuse to look up at Christian. I know that this is music to his ears. He's wanted me to take time out of work for a while now, but now a medical professional is backing up his idea.

"Okay. I'll make sure we sort this out." He states coolly. I look up at him, watching him typing something out on his phone. It's probably a memo of what she's told us. He lifts his eyes to me, a smile flickering over his lips in an attempt of telling that it will be okay.

I have no doubts that he will make sure that it's sorted. He's a man of many means – one of which is the ability to tie me to the bed and stop me from doing anything that could possibly increase my blood pressure any more than it already has.

I try to step off the bed for the second time, Dr Greene gesturing that I can head off and change but I'm stopped again. Christian butts in again, grabbing Dr Greene's attention.

"Just one more thing. Is flying safe for Ana and the baby?"

I jerk my head to him, confused as to what has led to this outburst. He mouths 'helicopter' to me, shrugging his shoulders. I roll my eyes and hop down from the bed. I shuffle across the floor over to the bathroom and pull the door to a close behind me. I can still hear them clearly from the room set off to the side.

"I see no problems with flying. Most airlines vary in their regulations in regards to when they prevent you from flying. In my rule book I typically say twenty-six weeks then its feet to the floor."

"So, there's no problem with her blood pressure and flying?"

"Like I said, at the moment it's not a huge problem. Just try and make sure she relaxes and they'll both be fine."

"Thank you."

* * *

"So?"

I snap my head toward Christian sitting to my left, his hand massaging my thigh with his fingers. He starts to slowly creep up my leg with all intentions of hitting his favourite place. I press my thighs together to trap me and stop him from heading any higher. I twist my eyes to him in humiliation, flicking them between his mischievous greys to Taylor's. His steely blues are dedicated to the road. He knows that wherever Mr Grey is that some sort of kinky fuckery usually follows him.

Christian narrows his eyes to me, his fingers gripping my skin as he offers me that 'I'll do whatever the hell I like, whenever I like' sort of glare from his seat. I shake my head to him, moving my hand to cover his. I squeeze his hand and push it away politely, moving his fingers away from the lace of my panties.

"Well, are you going to give me an answer?" He expands on his previous question.

"An answer to what exactly? I have no idea what you're talking about." I wrack my thoughts trying to stammer a guess as to what he might be referring to.

"I want an answer to me taking you away from here for a few days. You haven't given me a definite answer either way."

"I didn't?" I question him. I don't remember him asking me explicitly for an answer. He grows impatient with me, his fingers growing strong under my hold and overtaking my hand and starting to creep back up my leg. This is his way of telling me I need to give it to him straight.

I give him my answer quickly, his fingers starting to edge ever closer to my panties. "Y-yes… It sounds great." I breathe rapidly.

"You could try and be a little more enthusiastic over it." He teases licking his lips.

"I am… It sounds perfect but I'll be more enthusiastic when we're heading off. The earliest we could head off is the end of the week." I roll my shoulders, shifting in my seat as he teases the lace.

"_The end of the week_?" He repeats my words to me. "Who said we'd wait until the end of the week to go?"

"You can't be serious, right? You want to just drop everything and leave tomorrow or Thursday?!"

"I was actually thinking that we could leave tonight." He replies bluntly.

"_Tonight_?! You've got to be kidding me?" I shriek, pushing his hand away. I can't concentrate if he's doing… _that_.

"What's stopping us?"

"Erm… work!" I answer him with the same level of bluntness.

"It's sorted. Ana, you're the boss now, you can do whatever the fuck you want."

"I can't just leave at such short notice. It doesn't matter than I'm the _boss_… I'm sure GEH didn't get where it is today with the boss gallivanting off on vacation."

"GEH didn't have a stable team for a while, meaning I couldn't gallivant anywhere. Besides, I had no one to accompany me."

"Christian –"

"Ana." He cuts me off. "Grey Publishing has a great team that can cope in your absence."

"But Kate…"

"You're telling me that she hasn't already worked everything out for herself? I can imagine she's already done the rounds of your office and become bosom buddies with your assistant." I scowl at him because he's right. "I would also go as far to say that she's probably already tackled that pile of paperwork sitting on the edge of your desk."

I twist my eyebrow to him. "Who exactly have you been talking to?"

"I haven't spoken to anyone." He lets out a laugh, throwing his head back. "I just know that she has a good head on her shoulders, and that a lot of the time she's too smart for her own fucking good!"

"I still don't –"

"Ana, please don't overthink this. They've coped in the past. All I'm asking for is one week. Just seven days of unsolicited, undistracted Ana time."

"No distractions?" I raise my eyebrow to him. He shakes his head, a grin starting creep over his lips. "So, no BlackBerry permanently glued to your ear?"

He shakes his head again. "I promise. Now, is that a yes?"

"Where are you taking me?" I struggle to hold off my own audacious grin.

"It wouldn't be a surprise if I told you, now would it?" He lifts his hand to my cheek, stroking it with the back of his hand. "You have two hours to kill before we're leaving."

"Two hours?!" I scream, pulling away from him. "Two hours?"

"You heard me. Gail has packed our things. All you have to do is change into the outfit I've laid out for you and make any phone calls you need to make, send any emails etcetera."

"You got all of this planned out haven't you?"

"We aim to please, Mrs Grey."

* * *

I headed straight upstairs as soon as we arrived home. I went up to change into the outfit he left out. I practically ran up the stairs partially concerned with what he may have chosen but more so hoping it would give me an idea of where we might be heading. Our suitcases were lying open on the bed – Gail probably left them open for Christian to check and sign off. I peeked inside and rummaged through the contents. I was surprised to find a lot of warm clothing; winter clothing. There were sweaters, jeans, scarves, hats and gloves - just piles upon piles of thick, knitted clothing items.

_So, we're heading somewhere colder?_

_It's colder in the East. Aspen, maybe?_

I liked Aspen. No, I loved Aspen. I feel a whirl of excitement thinking about returning there. I can only imagine it looks even more spectacular now that the first drops of snow have arrived on the hills.

Christian still refused to give anything away to me as we slipped into the back of the car. His outfit resembles mine: dark coloured jeans, a sweater covering a t-shirt and converse on our feet. In the back of the car are two jackets – a trench coat of me and his leather one. Ryan and Reynolds occupy the front row of the SUV.

"Where are the others?" I shift as he checks my seatbelt for me. I glance back up at the house to see if I can spot Taylor or Sawyer. Surely they would be the one's coming with us, not Ryan and Reynolds?

"I've given them both some time off. They've work beyond their requirements these past few weeks. They need the break just as much as we do."

I nod my head, guilt creeping over me. Taylor has been my rock over the past week. Sawyer too, but to a lesser extent. I have no idea what type of state I would be in if I hadn't have had them with me.

Christian turns his attention to securing his own seatbelt before beckoning for Ryan to pull away from the house.

"Do you trust me Ana?"

I snap my head to him immediately, my neck taking the strain of my bewilderment over his outburst - his, hopefully, rhetorical outburst. I answer him anyway, not knowing if he wants an answer or no.

"Of course I do! Why would you even ask me that?"

"I want to blindfold you."

His soft greys drop from mine, lowering to his lap. His hand slips down into his front pocket pulling out a black blindfold. Just seeing it brings back all of those memories from the playroom. All of those times he's used it on me when he…

"W-why?" I stutter while my insides twisting as he pulls it to focus.

"Because I want it to be a surprise."

His eyes are wide with knowing and intent, burning straight through to my confused, dumbstruck and doe like blues.

I hesitate for a few seconds before nodding my head. I freeze as he stretches across and slips the cover over my face, blinding me. From the second it fell over my eyes I was lost. Blinded. Relying only on my hearing. After a few moments of trying to adjust I find myself listening out for clues, hoping that maybe I could stumble over something that told me where we're heading. I'm left in the dark. In the most literal sense of the phrase. The windows are pulled all the way up, blocking any noise from the outside. The radio is flooding the car with an orchestral piece. I've heard it before but I can't place where. It's very familiar and brings a smile to my lips.

With my hearing unable to offer me anything I focus more on my sense of touch. I can feel the car moving forward but I'm unable to figure out what direction we're heading in or even how fast the car is travelling! I feel uneasy being blind. I try opening my eyes but the thick, black fabric blocks out everything. I feel lost and claustrophobic. I try to look out under the fold but it fits the bridge of my nose perfectly. My breathing starts to heighten and pick up speed. I can feel myself panicking. It slows as soon as I felt his fingers force themselves through mine knotted in my lap. It's a reminder that I'm not alone.

We drove for a while. From my best guess I would say about forty or fifty minutes, but my sense of time often relies on knowing how fast we're going – without it I'm confused. I knew that we were heading straight, the car only steering to the left and right a few times as soon as we left the driveway. After enough time for my behind to grow numb the car came to slow and steady halt, the doors in the front flying open as soon as the engine was switched off.

I feel Christian's hand tug free from mine. I instinctively roll my head toward him, a whimper tripping off my quivering lower lip.

"Shhh… I'm just going to walk around to your side. I'll be five seconds." His voice is sweet and calming. I can feel the smile on his lips.

I know he loves this. I know he loves me depending on him and it excites me that he's taking control, but it doesn't take away my inability to feel comfortable.

I trust him. Implicitly. I know him and he wouldn't do anything beyond my limits. He knows me.

I feel his door open, the movement vibrating through the car and the chill from outside striking my skin like a flame. I know it's darker out there now and the temperature has dropped a few degrees reflecting this. I wait, counting out loud until he comes back to me. My fingers are knotting tightly in my lap, grinding against each other.

He arrives seven seconds later. Those two additional seconds were full of panic but it was quashed as I feel the frame supporting my arm collapse and pull away, his hand taking its place.

"I'm here." I hear his voice in my ear, his breath tickling me.

"You're late." I mumble trying to laugh but I can't. I'm jumpy and uncomfortable. Very uncomfortable.

"I know, but I'm here now. Come, let's get you out of the car and inside."

_Inside where?_

_Where am I going?_

I cooperate with him as best I can but find that it's easier to just sit back and keep out of his way. He stretches around me to set me free from my seatbelt. I breathe out heavily knowing I'm able to move freely, albeit without any sense of where I am or where I'm going.

Christian guides me steadily from the car, holding me close to his chest as he sets me on my feet. My feet hit concrete, I can feel it through my converse though it's no surprise, what else did I expect?

I stumble on my toes unable to get used to walking without my sight. He walks me at a slow and controlled pace. I can feel him standing directly in front of me, my hands in his. I can feel his heat just inches from me.

I try to listen out for sounds around us, waiting and hoping for anything that will tell me where I am but all I can hear is the sound of my own heavy breathing and the wind whirling around us.

_Where am I_?! I scream out on the inside. _Please, tell me where I am_…

We come to a stop and I think for a second he will take the cover off my eyes but he doesn't.

"We're coming to some steps, okay? I'll stand behind you and help you up."

"Can't you just take the blindfold off now?" I ask him impatiently.

"No."

He moves behind me, his hands moving to my hips and holding me steady. His head moves closer to my ear, telling me when to step.

I climb the first few gingerly but after a while I adjust to the routine, the steepness and the overall feet of the steps. They feel as if they're made of metal. I count eighteen in total. Eighteen considerably steep stairs before I enter into a different environment. The floor beneath me shifts to a different texture, possibly carpet.

I come to a stop as soon as I'm inside but he urges me forward, his hands on my hips pushing me forward and forcing me to walk.

"It's just a little further baby. I promise."

He walks me around the room. It's warmer in here than outside but I can still feel the chill. _Did he leave the door open? Is there even a door?!_

We walk a little further, stopping when I hit something with my foot. He blurts out an apology before lowering me into a chair. I wriggle as my behind meets the seat. It feels like leather. I move backwards until I feel the backrest behind me. It's a wide chair and plush..

"Comfortable?" He whispers, his face very close to mine. I nod my head to him furiously. "Good."

I feel his hands make contact with me, brushing around my hips and my bump. I feel something press into me, a strap of some sort wrapping around my stomach and the clatter of metal on metal is a new but familiar sound startling my ears. I shift and find myself instinctively looking down to see what it is, completely forgetting the cover that's blinding me.

I think he notices this, his fingers lifting up to my temples. He strokes the strap that lies there before slipping them under the black, swiftly removing it from my face. I blink hard several times trying to adjust to the light. It stings for a second or two. I rub my eyes with the backs of my hands until I feel that I can remove them and view my surroundings with ease.

I twist in my chair looking around his figure in front of me so I can take everything in. I'm in a tube like room, only it's large. I've been here before. I break into a grin, a squeal escaping as I realise where I am. I look around at the other seats, dotted around the tube in pairs and separated by a wide aisle. I look up to him as he towers over me, his face mirroring mine.

"We're flying somewhere?"

He flashes his teeth to me, dropping low to kiss my forehead before settling into the seat next to me. He doesn't need to answer my question, I know we are. We're flying somewhere in the Grey Enterprises Holdings private jet; Christian's private jet. _Our jet_.

"You're telling me you hadn't worked that bit out already?"

I shake my head but admit my inclination to him. "I checked the suitcase before we left and saw a lot of warm clothing. Are we going back to Aspen?"

"Good guess, but no." He shakes his head, his grin widening and growing more knowing than ever.

"Are we heading East?" I ask, completely thrown off scent. _If we're not heading to Aspen, where the hell are we going?_

He nods his head, completely silent, only his smile showing any emotion.

"New York?"

_He has a place there. _I correct myself. _We have a place there_.

He knows that I've never been there and I've always wanted to go. I feel butterflies in my stomach as I grow excited over this. _New York!_

"Nope."

I slump, feeling deflated. I grimace as the thought of heading to New York is torn in half and thrown in the trashcan.

I want to interrogate him and force him into telling me where we're going but he's distracted, the pilot heading over to greet us. I accept Stephen's hand as he welcomes us on-board and tells us he's glad to see us in good health. He retreats from my hand and moves on to Christian. They discuss flight plans; a lot of technical terms, code words and numbers are exchanged between them. It goes over my head, too much for me to understand along with my excitement building up inside me.

"How's the weather looking?" Christian asks him, adjusting his seatbelt.

"It's good Sir. It's clear and steady until we hit Atlantic air. It'll remain choppy for a short, while but it's looking good for when we hit Heathrow."

_What?_

He leaves us to head back to the cockpit, leaving us in the capable hands of the flight attendant.

I jerk my head to Christian, moving quicker than I've ever moved before. I just know I'll pay for that later, praying that it's not whiplash.

"H-Heathrow?" I stutter, unable to comprehend this.

His grin returns quickly, cutting across his lips showing his teeth in clear, pristine white.

"Heathrow?" I ask him again. My only response being a wink. "As in Heathrow _airport_?"

He reaches across and takes my hand in his, slipping his fingers through the gaps between mine.

"Heathrow airport in London, Heathrow airport?"

_I can't wrap my head around this._

Lifting my hand to his mouth he wraps his lips around my knuckles, tickling them through his smile.

"We're going to England?"

He whispers just one word in between a kiss on each finger.

"Surprise."


	61. Chapter 61

**Disclaimer:The characters portrayed in this story are those in E L James's Fifty Shades Trilogy, therefore they remain her property. The plot and themes in this story are those of the author. The author is in no way affiliated with James. No copyright infringement intended.**

**Thank you and I hope to have the next piece ready as soon as possible. Even if it bloody kills me to finish it. Much Love x**

* * *

"Ana?"

Yes?

"Ana?"

His voice flings through the cabin with more insistence and control than the first time he uttered my name. While I believe this to be the second time he has asked after me, something reverberates inside telling me that this could be the third or fourth time. His issuing on it seems far too repetitive to have been said only once before.

My head feels light, in fact my whole body does. I feel that mix of euphoria and adrenaline. I feel like I'm floating, flying even but I can't remember whether we've taken off yet. I can't remember… _anything_.

I'm… confused… shocked… astounded… all of the above.

"Ana."

_What?!_

_Jeez, why does he keep repeating himself?!_

"Ana, please say something!" Christian snaps at me with a voice tinged with concern. He snaps loudly as if I'm deaf or something.

It is in this moment that I realise I haven't spoken a word. My lips are sealed tightly into a line along my face. Everything I thought I had said to him has existed only in my mind. I am mute; silenced from… whatever it is that I'm feeling right now.

I kink my brow working this through in my mind. I have spoken to him. I must have. I answered him. I know I did. I shake my head and turn my eyes away from him, though I wasn't really looking at him, more looking through him - like a ghost. My eyes drop to the crevice between my knees, my sight falling and taking in the plush beige carpet beneath us.

_Has it always been this colour?_

I try and convince myself that I have spoken. I swear I felt my lips move no matter how tightly they are glued together, but Christian's continued efforts of rousing my attention proves otherwise. Slowly his words are morphing into one another and becoming muffled in their repetitiveness and dry overtones. It's as if he's based a mile away, shouting after me as I ride off into the distance in a metal tube and not sitting at my side. I try and prise my lips open, pushing my tongue out to break them apart and spill out the words I know are there. I have the words, albeit ones that might make no sense but they're still there.

I pulled my hand out of his hold, or rather it fell limp, when the light switch flicked on and I realised he was serious about leaving the country. But we're not just leaving the country, we're heading to England. We're heading over the Atlantic Ocean. We're going to England… England in Britain, _England_.

No matter how many times I repeat this to myself, over and over on a loop, I just can't understand or comprehend this.

_My husband is_ _taking me to England_.

I eye the floor for a while only upping my gaze as I watch a pair of over the top suede heels rocking past me, heading straight over into the sights of my relentless companion.

As if in slow motion I start to ascend up her body, taking in only her bottom half. A pair of glistening stockings separates the considerable gap between heels and skirt. Her legs look endless even hidden beneath the black of her stockings and the knee length navy skirt – a skirt that is clinging to her legs so tight that I half imagine her head is turning purple from suffocation. She gestures to Christian and her voice is almost indescribable. It's sweet… So sweet and childlike that it borders on sickly. I refuse to look up her body, I don't need to. I know full well what expression will reside on her face. I know it will be that doe-eyed 'please sir, can I have some more', although in this instance it'd be 'Can I have some in the first place!' I never thought I would be the jealous type, and with Christian being the man that he is I know I have no reason to be jealous, but still I hate how women ogle him. It's a love hate feeling. I hate having to share him that way but I love that he gets said attention, in that it adds to my smugness in knowing that he's mine. He's one hundred per cent mine. He says that it's just a face but he doesn't see that, yes while he is beautiful, it's not just the outside that people can see. No one knows him intimately enough to say for sure but there is, and always will be a part of him that displays his ability to be calm, loving and compassionate.

"Mr Grey, we're prepared for take-off." She purrs to him, rocking on her heels frequently and annoyingly. "The captain is waiting for your approval sir, to close the doors ready for flight."

"No."

"Erm… Sir –"

"Ms Young, I said no." Christian insists, the latter forceful and cold.

"Mr Grey, please call me Gabby." She ignores him, her voice returning to its childish nature. "Sir, in order to stick to schedule we'll need to take-off soon."

"_Ms_ _Young_." He hisses through his teeth, his voice growing more tension filled and angry with her consistent badgering. "We will not be going anywhere until I know my wife is okay."

_Huh?_

I snap my head to the right, spinning in my seat quicker than a revolving door to face him.

_Until he knows I'm okay?_

His eyes are focusedon me as he jumps from his chair, snapping out of his position to crouch down in front of me. His fingers clasp themselves around mine that are lying lame in my lap. He moulds his around them and rubs them fiercely. He eyes me, his wonderfully wide greys searching me for some sort of response.

"Baby, are you okay?"

"Yes… W-why?" I stumble out my first muttering, my lips quivering as they twitch.

"You haven't said anything… Or moved for that matter…"

He trails off examining my face with intent and purpose. His expression changes, as if reflecting an alternation in my own but I hadn't felt a change or shift in any sort of emotion. I'm still in shock but he saw something, enough to pound forward and thrust his arms around me.

With his lips making contact with my ear he hums a soothing lullaby to me, his hands moving around my back and starting their circular motions up and down my spine. He's pulling me close into his chest, well, as much as he can with this seatbelt wrapped so securely under my bump.

"Ana… Baby it's okay…" He breathes softly to me. "Aw, baby you're shaking."

_I am?_

I tug away from him to look into his eyes. They're glassy and weary. He lifts his hand from me to cup my cheek, his fingers rolling around on my skin feeling flush under his touch. Christian watches me for what feels a long time, just his eyes tracing the curvature of my cheeks. He's my own personal calming device causing me to become oblivious of my surroundings. I can see only him and hear only our mix of synced breathing. He has control over me and for once I'm relishing in that.

Without turning from me he calls out to the hovering stalk lingering behind him with her arms crossed around her middle, her eyes flickering from the back of his head to my face and shifting from admiration and desire, to a scowl in a nanosecond.

"Close the doors now. My wife is cold." He's sharp with her but loving with me. Christian traces my cheek once more then pushes away, but not before gently pressing his lips to my forehead.

"I am?" I ponder. _I don't feel cold_.

"Very."

I lift my fingers to my face, embracing either side to check and understand his point as the ice blocks stumped at the end of my wrists flash contact with my flushed cheeks.

I look around the plane and watch the movements further down the cabin. The flight attendant is faffing around organising the closing of the doors while Ryan and Reynolds settle down into their seats a fair distance away from us, nearer to the cockpit. They're situated the perfect distance from us, just enough to allow Christian and I the privacy to talk openly with each other. I know he doesn't care who listens in or what they hear – his view is that they'd wish they hadn't bothered, and I'm forced to agree with him – but more importantly he knows that no one who works for him would dare mention anything to either of us, or anyone else for that matter. Mr Grey doesn't take well to idle gossip and everyone knows what would happen if he caught someone being the culprit behind a lot of hassle. I don't even want to think about the outcomes of such an altercation.

I pull my hands away from my face and force them to my sides. I rock on my behind to slide my hands underneath myself - my attempt of warming them up. I glance up to Christian hearing a laugh escape from the seat beside me as he fastens his seatbelt. Offering over my 'it's what I do' glance I receive only a louder giggle; one more befitting as a howl rather than a laugh.

"It's just a lovely sight." He chuckles, pushing back in his seat. "It's a strange one, but lovely nonetheless."

Flicking his hand in the air Christian gestures something to Ms Young – some sort of notion to approach Stephen and tell him we are ready to fly. Leaning over to me he asks me again if I'm okay and warning me that if I'm not then that's it, we're staying put. I smile as I comfort him, telling him I'm fine even though on the inside I'm at total odds. In one respect I'm startled into submission, willing to go along with whatever he wishes just for peace of mind and the inability to think for myself, but at the same time I'm jumping around like a lunatic on crack.

* * *

Christian kept hold of my hand throughout take-off. His fingers squeezed and contorted around mine in that comforting way he has mastered so well. I think he was picking up on my momentary lapse where I found myself having to suck in a few deep and long breaths as the cabin started to tilt. The feeling of being pulled backwards, the drag sinking through my stomach, was the trigger that set me off and started to build panic inside me. I've never felt this way from flying, in fact I've never even suffered with a bout of travel sickness but something hovers in me and tells me that maybe I'm holding some sort of apprehension for Blip. I tried to pretend it was nothing, that it was just my ears popping that was the cause behind the grimace stretching over my lips but Christian knew otherwise.

If there's one thing I can never hide from him it is my true feelings over something. He knows me like the back of his hand. He knows when I'm truly happy, sad or worried over something. There is nothing I can hide from him because he knows everything about me, but I can't say the same for him. Yes, there is no denying that I know a lot about him – I know so much more than anyone else in this entire universe, but there are still things are remain un-discussed: the extent of his abuse as a young child, although my imagination and what little information I have has filled in some of the holes; the factor that twisted and turned his view of submission – what was the real factor that made him want to become a Dom? Did she hurt him? These are just some of the things I know little to nothing about, however sometimes I wonder whether it's best off leaving well alone? I know things about him that no one else would – that tickle spot on his lower abdomen, just left of his happy trail, where he starts to quiver before tensing up when I stroke it; I know how to please him, but not just in a sexual way – I know how he likes his breakfast, how he takes his coffee and the way he prefers to shampoo before washing. I'm happy about knowing these things because they're personal and unique to us, but I'm also equally as happy to know and find out anything I can from him. There are many things I wish to discuss with him but for now it's just a waiting game until that more opportune and appropriate time appears.

I look over to him as I think of all this, something about the way his hold of my hand is tightening concerns me. Sometimes it genuinely feels like he can read my thoughts. Hell, he's shown his 'ability' to do this to me several times throughout our time together and I don't hesitate in thinking there will be many more times to come. I purr around the thought that maybe I'm just too readable? Maybe I display everything on my face for all to see – that I'm an open book?

"Christian?" I mumble, stammering the strength to address him somewhere in the depths of my heavy chest.

"Yes?" He replies, rolling his head across the back of his chair to look at me.

"How?"

"What you mean how?" He mimics the same level of intrigue and quizzing in his voice.

"How did you manage all of this?"

I flash my arm out to point to our surroundings. I catch the eye of the overzealous flight attendant notifying us that it's now safe for us to remove our seatbelts. I jump at the opportunity, my fingers finding my buckle and unfastening it quickly. Being free from restraints I let out my stomach, unleashing the tension I've held since Christian tightened it and slump back in my chair, swinging my feet up from the floor to tuck underneath me.

_How did he manage this?_

I quarrel this in my mind before he answered, wondering whether he's had this planned out for a while and not told me. It seems far too contrived to have been a last minute affair; I mean even in Mr Mercurial Fifty's world this is pushing it! But in the same breath I find myself contradicting my own thoughts, thinking that this does feel rushed and a hasty turnaround from being in my office at work, to attending our sonogram and now we're sat on a plane?!

"I thought about it while we were in Portland. In just that day with you it showed me what I wanted… I just want you. Only you." Stretching out his hand I slip my fingers between his. "I wanted to stay there with you, locked away from it all to just have you to myself –"

"Another of your fantasies?" I interject, smirking at him.

"Possibly, but I truly just want to be able to spend time alone with you. These past few weeks have been horrendous. All I can hope is that this will somewhat make up for that."

"As long as I'm with you I don't care."

"That's good to know." He pauses momentarily, yawning quietly to himself. "But no, I didn't arrange all of this prior to your knowledge. I knew that I needed to ask you first before I jumped the gun with this one. That's got me in trouble in the past and it's not something I wish to relive any time soon."

"So, none of this was pre-planned?"

"I did call ahead to clear the flight plan with air traffic control at Sea-Tac, and I did reserve bookings where we're staying but nothing else."

"What if I said no?" I question him, twisting in my seat. "Not that I would have said no, but you had Gail pack and you've done some planning. What would have happened if I said no?"

"Then we'd be at home, doing whatever we normally do at this time. Ana, if you didn't want this then I wouldn't have forced you. You have your own mind, I haven't always been considerate of that but we're moving forward."

"I know… We are… I just want to know, when you were at my office… Was it because of this?" I ask him, stumbling through my question wary of his answer and reaction.

"Oh God, no!" Jolting upright he shifts to face me more openly. "No, Ana. No. I promised you that I'm not doing that anymore. I went there only to sign off some press releases and have a quick word with HR… I've told them about our arrangement. From now on they're signing off all legality papers, letter heads and press releases in both our names. I only called them this evening while you were getting ready. I haven't gone behind your back on this one."

"Christian I'm not angry. I was just curious, that's all." I try to calm him, pushing a smile across my lips to comfort him and show him I wasn't firing fuck into his ass over this, just easing my mind over something niggling me.

"I apologised to Kate for this but she understands. She isn't aware to the extent of what's happened between us but she knows we need a break. In fact, she's fine with it. In her own words she has this down."

I roll my eyes hearing Kate's voice in my mind. I hesitate wondering whether she's up for this. I know Kate is smart and a quick learner, that she can rise to any challenge but not even she's ready to take charge after one day!

"Baby, Griffin will step up in your absence –" Christian continues, the same thought evidently flicking through his mind. "Hannah will cover the maintenance side and represent you on the shopfloor. Ana, it's just one week."

"I just feel guilty. Lately I haven't spent any time there. I feel a cop out."

"You've had a lot to deal with. Too fucking much if you ask me! No one will ever fault you for taking time out when it's necessary."

"Do you realise how much of a wonder you are, Christian Trevelyan Grey?"

"What?"

"You've pulled off the impossible? Planning this in what… less than twelve hours?"

"Eight." He corrects me. "But a man can do a lot in eight hours."

"Hmm, I know…" I wink at him, taking my lower lip between my teeth but he doesn't bite.

"Especially when his wife's happiness is at stake." He continues.

"Well, if he wanted to make her happy all he had to say are those three little words…"

He smirks for a second before retreats back into serious mode. "Nope, I have no idea what you mean Mrs Grey." Shrugging he tries to maintain a confused expression.

I crawl from my seat into his, sliding onto his lap and wrapping my arms around him. I press my lips to his lightly at first and start to massage them sensually. I slip my tongue in, rolling around his with just enough pressure to rouse stirrings from beneath me.

"I think they might be coming to me…" He groans, shifting me on his lap to feel him grow and swell from this minimal contact.

"Hmm… I think something else might be coming if you don't say it soon." I tease him, whispering quietly so only he can hear.

"Well, in that case I'll keep my mouth shut."

* * *

We were in the air for no more than an hour before refreshments were served after my stomach decided to groan loudly, echoing throughout the cabin and provoking many eyes to me. I could do nothing but shrug it off as four sets of wide eyes flicked to me. I mean, I'm pregnant isn't that reason enough to feel the need to eat all the time? After all, it's not something I can help. I live for my baby. Whatever he wants, he gets. No questions asked, so it was no issue for Christian to inform Ms Young we'd like to be served earlier than schedule. She's told Christian to call her Gabby several times already this evening however, for me she's still Ms Young. She hasn't bothered to correct me. She grumbled under her breath as Christian told her for the second time to issue our meals, quarrelling something about the plans they'd drawn up but with one look from Christian she jumped into action. It was one of those 'if you hesitate once more when I ask you do something, I won't hesitate in throwing you out of the fucking cargo hold' sort of glares.

I was hungry, I could feel it inside but as soon as the food was placed in front of me I no longer held any desires to eat. There was nothing physically wrong with the selection, just something wrong with me. I picked at my plate, shuffling the contents around and nibbling on what little I could stomach, eventually settling for little more than a few glasses of water. Christian scowled at my fussy eating but quickly let it go. I gently, but forcefully reminded him that if or when I am hungry I will tell him, I won't allow myself to starve but I won't force myself to eat something I know I will be throwing down a toilet in thirty minutes time.

I pushed my plate over to Christian, egging him to finish the remnants of my barely touched meal. I told him it was because I didn't want anything going to waste but it was really for my own needs to see him eat healthy. Call it the mother in me or the over-protective wife, but I fear that in our time apart that he won't have eaten properly. I worry that the stress I have put him through has taken its toll on him, but this is the only way I can know he's okay where hunger is related.

Gazing down the aisle I take in our company for our flight and vacation. Ryan has now reclined completely in his chair, from the looks of it with ear plugs in so he can rest during this long flight. Reynolds, on the other hand, is sat up in his chair and scanning through a newspaper – one of many piled up next him, with a book underneath that. I stare at them for a few seconds allowing all sorts of things to flutter through my mind.

_Why do they do it?_ I mean, why do they stick with us when a lot of the time we put them through shit? I know I've put them through shit. This can't just be about money because I'm sure that there are a lot of other jobs out there that do not carry health warning and the need to wear a bullet-proof jacket on occasions! Surely no amount of cash can be worth it?

My thoughts shift to why there are only two of them. I know Christian has given Taylor and Sawyer some time off but when we've travelled previously we've had more, apart from our trip to Aspen when only Taylor accompanied us but we weren't heading out of the country. I reminisce our honeymoon and the countless security we had then. Why…

"I have more security meeting us when we land."

I roll my head to him as he answers me through a partially full mouth. I smile to myself at the sight. How is it that someone with the manners of a God can look even more delectable and sweet when he's caught in the middle of eating?

"Are there places you can go to get these people?" I ask him with all sincerity to reinforce that this isn't a quick-witted sarcastic remark that I could easily be accused of.

"There are firms that supply personnel but I ask Taylor to arrange it. He has many associates around the world and he's lined up one of the best for us."

"Okay."

"And, I've also lined up a few meetings with possible new security detail for you when we return."

"Why?!"

_Why do I need more security? I have Sawyer, and Ryan when necessary_.

"I just think that it's about time you had some female security with you." Pushing his plate aside he takes back a sip of his water before continuing. "I want you to be comfortable and I can imagine that it isn't pleasant having all men surrounding you. Besides, it won't be all that much longer before the baby's here and it's only right that you have a woman around."

"Am I really going to have someone watch over me as I nurse and change diapers?!" I whine at him, this idea enthralling and cursing excitement through me.

"No. Well, not intentionally at least. That's private and I hope that you're left to attend to those duties in solitude but we'll be running by his clock, not ours."

"God isn't the truth." I rub my stomach lightly acknowledging him.

_You're going to have us all wrapped around your finger aren't you?_ I pause and wait to see if I can feel anything. The fluttering does continue on a semi-coherent basis but still nothing significant to write home about.

"Okay, just let me know when you've made the decision. I'd like to meet with them before they start."

"Ana, you'll be the one choosing them, not me." Christian corrects me without hesitance. "They're going be shadowing you so it's only right you have the final choice."

"I get to choose?"

"Absolutely… Taylor has done a search for us and lined up some possible candidates that he can vouch for. We can meet with them and then you can make your choice as to who you'd like to work alongside." Raising my hand to his lips his kisses my first knuckle before excusing himself. "I just need to speak with Reynolds for a moment."

I smile and usher him to proceed, retrieving my hand and pushing back into my chair.

Leaving his chair he stretches out any tension from his shoulders as he walks the short distance over to Reynolds in front of us. I lean down and check the screen on the armchair of my seat and clock the time. 8:34PM. Not bad considering we took off shortly after six. Christian glides so easily to him, reaching his side and standing straight. Reynolds drops everything at the sight – folding up his paper hastily and making to stand, halted by Christian ordering him to remain seated. He stretches his arms high over his head before crossing them neatly around his chest. His t-shirt rose slightly in the process, exposing the tops of jeans and his boxers beneath them.

Their exchange is short, a quiet mumbling between them over something insignificant to me with Christian leaving quickly to join me once again. He smiles that smile to me as he moves back, the one that knocks all the wind from your chest; the smile where the left side of his mouth hitches higher than the right with his teeth peering out and flashing at me, beaming genuine happiness. He strolls toward me at a leisurely pace that artfully displays his gracious manner, his hips rolling slightly with seduction and his shoulders mirroring this. Even though the walk is short he is stopped dead in his tracks just shy of my chair by a voice calling him front further down the cabin.

With an eye roll he spins on his heel, turning to face the pestering and never-ending vixen vying for another attempt at gaining his attention. She calls his name twice before he turns, the first attempt purposively ignored.

"Ms Young, what now?" He huffs with annoyance and frustration

"Oh… Mr Grey, please call me Gabby."

Squaring up to him having half run up the aisle she meets his stance, begging him to call her by her first name for the umpteenth time this evening. She straightens the vest of her uniform, settling it in the right place around her midriff. Her uniform is a mix of pale blue and navy. A standard and professional combination however, there is nothing professional about her. Her shirt is a few sizes too small, pushing her cleavage together so it peeks out unflatteringly from the open collar of her shirt – the top three buttons undone. I grumble to myself as I watch her idle in front of him. The only thing going in her flavour right now is that she's blonde; a platinum, peroxide blonde asymmetrical bobbed style hanging around her ears. I swear all she needs are the wrinkles, and that 'death warmed up' expression and she really could be bitch troll's fucking twin!

"Ms –"

"Mr Grey… I would love for you to call me Gabby." She interrupts him. Cutting him off in his flow and rocking back on her heels. She stands just a tad shorter than him.

Christian's whole posture shifts, the anger visibly building and filtering up to his shoulders as he squares up to her, maintaining just a short distance to make her uncomfortable. Though I can only see part of his face from my seat I can tell his expression reeks disgust and everything about his poise and air echoes it. I know Christian and he doesn't take lightly to being interrupted, especially not by the same person in such a short space of time.

"Ms Young. I have no interest in calling you anything other than your professional name." He spits out to her, loudly. "Now, you need to take note that I do not tolerate being interrupted. You are still in your probation period. I have no issues in terminating your employment if you fail to realise this."

"But, Mr Grey –" Edging forward she reaches out with her hand, her mind set on landing it on his arm but he recoils sharply.

_Oh, fuck no!_ My subconscious and I rise from our seat rapidly. _Oh hell no, that bitch didn't just try and touch him?!_ I slam both feet on the ground, ready to pounce. _Who the fuck does she think she is?!_

"You are seriously pushing your fucking luck." His voice shifts to a shout in a flash, stirring Ryan from his nap. His eyes flick between the scene and me, offering a puzzled glance as whether to step in and settling for a firm no.

Christian swats her hand away and moves back from her further, adding distance but his cold and anger flooding the room heavily.

"Do not ever try and touch me." He snaps, spitting out his venom to her. "I pay you to work, not to pester me."

"Sir –"

"If you have even one fucking brain cell you will know to shut the fuck up right this second. Do you not see that woman sat behind me?" Spinning himself to face me he flicks out his arm, pointing aggressively to me as if she didn't already know who he was referring to. "You see that woman? That is my wife. You have done nothing but pester me all evening and frankly, it revolts me. Just the idea of anything less than professional disgusts and repulses me."

Her eyes drop to me, her face flushing crimson. She looks dazed and in pain, her eyes meeting mine and begging for help, willing me to stop him but he continues.

"I mean, look at you." Pointing up and down her he shifts his stance, his feet shuffling further apart. "Why would you even think for a second that I would be interested in someone like you? Is that why you think I hired you? So I could pawn all over you?" He lets out a howl, one that reverberates sarcasm and repulsive attitude. "Why the fuck would I want you when I have her? Why would I lower my standards to someone like you?"

"I-I'm sor-ry…" She struggles to catch her breath, her eyes glassing up with water threatening to ruin her inch thick makeup.

"For the rest of this journey I do not want to hear a thing from you. If there is any information or progress I need to be aware of you will pass it on to my security."

He leaves her standing there, almost gasping for breath before hurrying off down into the galley of the cabin. I stare after her as she runs away but before I know it his hands are on me, pushing me away. I almost stumble on my feet but he maintains my frame, twisting me around to face the opposite direction. I make to question him, or at least ask him to slow down but he takes my hands and charges through the back of plane, leading me down past the restrooms and towards the private room. _Our room_.

I take in the familiarity of the room as I step inside. Everything is how I imagined and remembered, only the bed linen different. I face him as he joins me, slamming the door shut behind him. I jump as it echoes throughout the plane, the force enough to tear off a wing or something! My eyebrows shoot up through shock, my hands pushing their way to my hips.

"What?" He shrugs with that level of innocence that can sit on either side of adorable and annoying. "It affirms my stance."

"And you don't think that that was harsh enough?"

"Oh… I'm sorry. So, you're telling me that you weren't thinking the exact same thing? That you're not the slightest bit content with what I just said?"

Closing in the gap between us he slips his arms through mine and pulls me closer into him, his lips resting just shy of my ear.

"So, you're telling me that you weren't ready to do the same? You didn't want to rip her limb from limb? You weren't even the slightest bit angry… fuming… pissed off…" He breathes heavily on my ear, his hands caressing their way along my lower spine and edging closer to my behind.

"No… I'm a bigger person than that… I have more… _control_ over my emotions…"

"Okay! Whatever you say baby." He snorts loudly against me. "I must have mistaken your heavy, dragon-like fire breathing for the engines."

I snap my knee up between his parted legs, up toward his most treasured area but he catches me just in time, pre-empting my moves and tutting at me.

"Mrs Grey… We both know you wouldn't want to upset that area because we both appreciate and value him very, very much."

"Maybe we should show him just how much we appreciate and value him…" I ark my brow, my tongue peeping out from my lips and with my best attempt of seduction I roll it over my bottom lip.

"Hmm…" Dipping to my level his lips replace my tongue, moving around mine and smothering them, igniting those muscles and steering them into their spasms. I groan into his mouth but he pulls back, mouthing the word I hate most. "No."

_Huh?_

"No. It's not happening so you can stop pouting." Tapping the tip of my nose with one of his fingers Christian pulls away from me completely, moving around the bed to perch himself down on the edge. "No sex."

"At all?!" I shriek.

"Not until those delicate little feet of yours are back on the ground. You heard Dr Greene, you've got high blood pressure."

"No…" I correct him, following his movements and joining him on the other side of the bed. "She said slightly raised blood pressure and she's not concerned by it."

"Ana, I'm not risking anything. End of." He shoots me down.

"Is that why you spoke with Dr Greene in her office about flying? Asking whether it's safe for both of us?"

"You heard that?"

"Walls have ears." I chide, lowering myself to lie next to him. "You know… I read online that there was a study that proved that cuddling helps to reduce blood pressure."

"Did you now?" Swinging his legs onto the bed he shuffles to lie directly beside me. "Cuddling we can do but nothing more. We're already pushing it what with the cabin pressure, altitude and your now _slightly raised blood pressure_. I'm not prepared to risk anything. Okay?"

"Okay…" I huff, wriggling away from him slightly to add some distance. No amount of temptation will provoke him. Wherever the baby's concerned it is a yes or no basis, and this is a very firm but polite no.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Of course." He replies softer than before, rolling onto his side to look at me. I mirror him so we're nose to nose.

"Why England?" I carry on before he has time to answer, adding clarity to my question. "Not that I'm not in love with all of this, but what made you choose England of all places?"

"I seem to remember a former Miss Steele telling me that she loved the idea of travelling to England… And I seem to remember telling you at some point or another that I wanted to show you the world before we had children." His fingers splay out on my stomach. "I know he seemed to have other plans but we still have a little time and this is the least we can do short of visiting every country in the world."

"Do you think we'll get to travel when he's here? You know, as a family?"

"I can't think of anything better. I love the idea of it just being the three of us vacationing in various cities but right now... I want you to sleep." Sitting up he reaches down to the end of the bed, taking the throw that's folded over the edge and pulling it up to cover us both.

"_Sleep_?"

"Yes. Sleep."

"In all of my clothes?" I query him as he tugs at the throw to suffocate us under its thickness.

"You honestly think we have the control to not have sex if we were sleeping naked?" His eyebrow shoots up. I bite my tongue for a second but cave.

"Point taken, but it's still really early. It's not even nine yet. Have we turned into geriatrics already, Grandpa?"

"It might be early now but we're shifting into GMT timing. It'll be two AM eastern when we land but it'll be noon there and neither of us likes jetlag." He answers me, his reasoning making perfect sense, as always. "And less of the Grandpa… I'm settling for Dad first."

I huff and roll onto my other side to face away from him. I lift my arm from my body to allow him to slide his underneath so he can hold me. He accepts, reaching across to switch off the light before closing in on me.

"Now, go to sleep. I'll wake you just before we're due to land but –"

"If I wake up and I'm hungry I'll let you know." I retort, a grin stretching over my lips. I twist my head to the side, pushing it back into the pillow beneath to look at him. "See, you're not the only one who can do that!"

"I have absolutely no idea what you are insinuating."


	62. Chapter 62

**Disclaimer:The characters portrayed in this story are those in E L James's Fifty Shades Trilogy, therefore they remain her property. The plot and themes in this story are those of the author. The author is in no way affiliated with James. All recognisable brands, places or persons are the property of their respected owners and are in no way the property of the author. No copyright infringement intended.**

**Much Love,**

**Chelsea x**

* * *

On the scale of the most pleasurable experiences one can indulge in, stretching out your arms and legs after sleeping in a smaller than average bed is definitely high on the list. I would even argue it is almost on par with toe-curling orgasms delivered by the most delectable, mercurial and soul-wrenchingly beautiful man in the world. Almost being the imperative word here.

As I stretched out my arms, reaching up high over my head and straightening them into perfectly parallel lines I was able to release all of the pent up tension that was gluing my joints together. I could feel my muscles pulling out of shape, flexing and contracting as I elongated my limbs without wishing to stop. I initially fought off my better judgement to take things slow, and move at a snail's pace to accommodate the stiffness taking over my upper half, but I twisted and wracked my vertebrae sharply, slashing away the crick rooting itself down the length of my neck from lying at a strange angle for a significant period of time. This minimal pain soon subsided and drifted into nothing more than a twinge after moving, proof that going against your subconscious can be effective.

From the very roughest calculations undertaken in my mind, one full to the brim with haze, I've successfully managed to squeeze in around four hours of undisturbed, calm and enraptured sleep. Strangely so, I wasn't tired before taking to my bed – far from it in actuality – but nevertheless I forced myself to try and rest, soon finding that my body and mind were willing participants in this unspoken agreement. I was able to drift off, falling into unconsciousness without a second breath of hesitation. I coerced with myself that my body must have needed the rest, either in preparation for the eight hour time difference we're entering in to, or as part of the recovery that every single inch of me requires after the worst week of my life.

I felt alert before and fighting fit, ready to take on the world and his friend but now, I doubt I could even fight off an insect with success. I feel like my body has taken the full brunt of a head-on collision with a freight train. A big ass freight train tearing me limb from limb in the attack, leaving me inept and valueless. Every square of my body aches with a residue heaviness coagulating under my skin – even my eyes are feeling the strain: my vision blurring at the peripheral with my lids hanging low around my irises and tainting my sight with that dull haze that comes hand in hand with a hangover. Moving around is proving an interesting challenge as I find my attempts stumbled, uncoordinated and jagged. It's almost as if my body has pre-empted the jetlag that undoubtedly will ensue, choosing to settle in now for the fun of it.

As I woke up I found that at some point during my slumber I must have turned, shifted and rolled onto my other side, this time to face Christian head on. Either that or he was the factor in my change of direction, forcing me to face him and use his frame as a human pillow - both a definite possibility and the latter seeming to be the more probable of the two. Unlike him I tend to wake in the same position I fell asleep in, unless of course he had taken it upon himself to restrain me to the mattress, using his full weight as a shield. Whatever the cause behind my move is insignificant to the result, being that I ended up nuzzled under Christian's arm, curling up close to him with my head jack-knifed from the rest of my body so it could rest against his hard chest, the only barrier between us being his t-shirt.

Yes, a pillow would be a comfier choice and one that doesn't come with a prerequisite of whiplash, but nothing compares to the rhythmic and soothing rise and fall of his torso, or the soft pounding of his heart beneath my ear.

I threw my dominant leg over him, pushing into the gap between his legs and taking my claim over that space – something more akin to his sleeping habits rather than my own. I completed my mould of his frame with an arm draped over him, possessing him and staking my rights over his body. I woke slowly, hovering between the realms of sweet dreams and the equally sweetness of this world prevailing us, to the most charming, dulcet hums trickling out of his mouth and down into my ear. Christian sang to me this beautiful lullaby on repeat, one ringing with originality. To me this isn't a startling shard of his persona; I've heard him so many times before compose something at his piano, something of his own hand and mind and no one else's. I lay as still as possible, trying to soak up these precious moments and allowing Christian the chance to indulge in them too. His fingers fisted their way through my hair – the warm flex of his fingers teasing the length, pushing through my mane from root to tip with minimal breaks in between. His praises for my keeping it long are unspoken but stinging my mind knowing that this is something he prefers and appreciates. I refuse to open the door on the why factor behind this, through choice and not inability, but as long as he's content then so am I.

Of course Christian knew I was awake; no doubt there was some sort of subtle change in my breathing or something triggering this to him. He paused for a second or two until I nudged into him, pretending as if I were still in slumber with a whimper and stirring. I could feel his smile as he picked up from where he left off, stroking my tassels and starting his song over again. I was unable to hold off any longer, feeling that need to move take over me with power and obsession. Lifting myself from him I pressed my lips to his chest, kissing his pectoral through his t-shirt before pushing away from the bed. I slipped from his hold gingerly, clutching my head as I rose and hitting that sudden realisation that altitude is a killer!

I sat up slowly, taking a moment to adjust my vision and try to get the fog to lift, but as ever my security net was beside me swiftly and with efficiency. Tossing an arm around my shoulders and his other hand collecting mine from my lap he just held me for a second, offering over his concern in a silent examination of my face. I smiled to him as I felt this motion wash over me, and this time even I was convinced by my own delivery of reassurance.

We made to leave the cabin after I took a minute to freshen up in the en-suite bathroom, and it was only as we were making our way out of the door that I realised my feet were bereft of the shoes I walked in with. I dropped my eyes to my feet, my toes wriggling through the bright blue polka-dot socks I threw on just before we left our home earlier today. Kindly, Christian collected my converse from the floor at the base of the bed, sinking to his knees in front of me to help me into them. He smiled as he told me that at one point I kicked them off my feet in frustration, my grumbles at doing this apparently creating quite an amusing performance. Lacing up my shoes and locking away my socks from the eye a smile tickled both our lips at the memories of these socks and the first time he ever saw them – that night ended in a lot of laughter, a very, very sore behind and a multitude of orgasms all rolling into each other. Yes, that was a great night.

As we entered back into the main body of the plane I found that I had supposedly woken an hour ahead of schedule, something dazzling me as I was unaware that we ever had a pre-determined schedule of what we were to do and when we were allowed to do it. Explaining himself better Christian told me that he had intentions on letting me rest for as long as possible before we were due to land. I shrugged my shoulders to him and used this as an excuse to reclaim my stolen appetite from earlier. As he had done earlier, Christian bellowed at our flight attendant, startling her into a hasty and clumsy action, ordering her to bring over something for me to snack on. Feeling awkward at this exchange I scowled at him, screwing my face as means of trying to get him to ease up on her, by all agreement she acted inappropriately and it did piss me off but in all honesty, did she really deserve that beating? Without break he threw across that cold, sideways glance out of the corner of his eyes to let me know that this is his game, his rules, and that while I may be party to it I am in no way involved in this interchange. I bit my tongue holding back my need to fight him on this and instead asked him quietly to calm down a little, to try and just ignore her for the rest of the flight as he has ordered her to, but as expected he didn't care, so I was forced to use a different tactic – I asked him to do this for me. From the way his own persona shifted I realised this was the key all along into getting him to agree to what I ask. I clocked him inspecting my face and undoubtedly noticing the tiredness etched all over me, another penny adding to the equation. With a brief smile he settled back into his chair, slouching all the way and taking this opportunity to rest his eyes for just a second or two.

Christian has always functioned on less sleep than anyone I know, and to some extent I fear he'll always be this way – surviving on just a few hours here and there. I know exactly where this stems from, it being his frequent and relentless nightmares he has had to endure throughout his life. They have only ceased since we've met, although he has had the odd one or two but these were mainly my fault – me and my 'smart mouth' stressing him out. I stress him out. A hell of a lot. But I realise now that it has to stop, if not for his sake in all of this, then for the sake of our marriage.

I know a lot of the time he shoves a brave face on it all, dosing himself up on caffeine to run wild and conquer the world in the nine-to-five slot he allocated to his office, but I know he gets exhausted like the best of them. Sometimes I'll catch him in the corner of my eye in the car, watching him slowly drifting away from me and losing interest in our conversations. It's only when I shut up and there is a lengthy pause that he panics, firing himself awake and asking me to repeat myself just to 'check that he heard me right'. Sometimes, I will stop and stare at him as I walk by his home office – I'll watch him slump over his desk in the dimly lit room with his elbows propped up on the table, his fingers rubbing hard at his eyes in an attempt to rid them of the stinging sensation setting in from being in front of his computer all day long.

Christian works too hard, right to the point of utter deprivation and fatigue. It annoys me a lot of the time as to the amount of himself that he dedicates to work, that and knowing that his beloved BlackBerry is never more than an arm's reach away. As soon as he wakes in the morning he checks his inbox and then runs through his schedule all before he has left the bed. It annoys me but at the same time I admire him for this. I admire his determination and love for the work he does, a love that lingers consciously on need. He's talented and there is no denying that he is good at what he does – earning a shitload of cash, to use his own words. He works his fingers to the bone in order to save himself from his previous existence, and to retrieve the control he lost in his youth. Christian has come to where he is in life through fear of losing that very control he has worked at regaining, the one stolen from him by two women in his life who held great influential roles. They were two women who should have nurtured him, not ruin him and create the monster that he saw in the mirror every day for God knows how many years. He never wants to delve back into that life of hunger, agony and no control over the most basic things a person deserves. I often find myself toying with the thought that a viable reason why he worked so hard was an attempt to forget this pain. I speculate whether he pushed himself to his upper most limits, career's wise, in hopes that he could escape the pain he knew all too well during the daylight hours, knowing that during the night he had no control over this.

Maybe by going to bed completely and utterly drained of life he thought it would be enough to stop the terrors coming to him during these graveyard hours?

I have no idea whether this was the case or whether it worked at all, but I hope it did. It hurts me to think of him living that way for years without there ever been a kink in the chain. My heart dies a little thinking of my Christian suffering every night at the hands of someone else.

The rest of our flight was quiet.

Ryan and Reynolds were deep in muted conversation further down the cabin, the plane rumbled at a low frequency sound and Ms Young adhered to Christian's requests, and Christian adhered to mine. He kept his mouth shut as she approached me with some snacks. Her head was low at all times, this image of her stark in comparison to her bolshie mannerism of before. The way she is tensed up, refusing to look up at either of us reeks of reminders of the playroom and submission. I know it was difficult for her to approach us; it was clear on her face! She wanted to stay as far away from Christian as possible, not wishing to be scalded again for giving off the wrong sort of vibe. I thanked her personally as she set down my tray of chips, pretzels and graham crackers. I caught her eye and smiled, showing her that I'm serious. She returned my smile before scurrying back down the plane toward her hideout and safe-zone. Whenever there was news from the cockpit she only came as far as Ryan's seat down the aisle, passing on the information to him so as one of them two could deliver it to Christian.

It was pathetic to watch knowing that it would save a lot of energy he Christian would just lighten up, but that was one argument I did not want to start. I flickered my eyes between Christian and Gabby, his eyes piercing the back of her head with anger but also an emotion unknown to him; to me and my eye Christian looks… _uncomfortable_. Something about the way he keeps tapping his thighs, fidgeting and checking his front pants pocket showing uncharacteristic behaviour for him. It shows him in a light unfamiliar to someone like him – someone was strong, confident and gracious as him. It triggers an unsettling thought in my mind. Unsettling for many, many reasons.

Time past fairly quickly and it wasn't much longer before the LED screens in the armrest of our seats flashed a warning to us, telling us to adjust out seatbelts for landing. I quickly saw to my own seatbelt, desperate to show my competence in doing this. Christian smiled and allowed me this, glancing over just three times to check that it was secure. I, in turn, allowed him this, reminding myself that it's probably more for the baby's sake rather than my own. If it's for the baby I am more open to his persistent need and want to protect me, and he knows this and plays on this factor acutely.

As the rubber of the wheels bounced on the concrete base under us I breathed a huge sigh of relief at the smoothness of our arrival, and knowing that we're now back on solid ground. My fingers were clamped hard around Christian's, encasing his in a tight grip. I only realised this when he flexed his fingers under mine, pressing me to loosen my hold so he could kindly inspect what, if any, damage I caused him in the process.

Any sort of grimace that was spread over my face during our descent was sharply erased and exchanged for a smile, a more fitting reaction to this surprise vacation – or second honeymoon as Christian pinned it. I was surprised. Hell, I was more than surprised, at how much I was affected by flying. I have never once been afraid of flying, the fact that I travelled to visit my Mom in Georgia several times over the past few years prove of this. It astounds me how I have loathed this experience, the only enjoyment coming from my sleep when I was oblivious to it. I know that it has nothing to do with the metal incarceration device we're held up in, but a whole lot to do with the mini-me growing in the pit of my abdomen.

I've tried to keep my thoughts of him at bay, in particular our delightful visit to Dr Greene's office, but it's hard to just ignore that sort of thing and pretend it's not happening. I want nothing more than a happy, healthy baby but how can I say that when I'm the one pushing myself and my body to the brink? For a long time I have blamed others for these sort of things – Christian being one of the main culprits – but I need to face up to the fact that most of this shit going on is just stuff I need to learn to let it wash over me. I need to learn which battles to fight and which to surrender in. I need to stop battling against the man I love for the sake of making a point. My baby deserves more than that. _Our baby_.


	63. Chapter 63

**Disclaimer:The characters portrayed in this story are those in E L James's Fifty Shades Trilogy, therefore they remain her property. The plot and themes in this story are those of the author. The author is in no way affiliated with James. All recognisable brands, places or persons are the property of their respected owners and are in no way the property of the author. No copyright infringement intended.**

**I really hope that you enjoy this chapter and that its length makes up for the shorter ones I have published recently. Fingers crossed!**

**Looking forward to hearing from you again! More coming very, very soon!**

**P.S... Bit of a Lemony ending to this chapter! ;)**

**Much Love, **

**Chelsea x**

* * *

The plane was bombarded with bodies the minute our very apologetic Ms Young swung the doors open shortly after we touched down on British soil.

A plethora of stern-faced, mismatched and scurrying men invaded our sanctuary, questions about our travel documents, intentions and identification cursing the lips of the few who approached us, others taking to collecting our belongings and process them ready for removal off the plane.

I sat back in silence, taken aback from their barrage and quick moving. The first wave whirled through the cabin as the wide-berth swinging door collapsed open, exposing the grey tinted skies of London. The cold snapped at my skin, biting through it with its icy grip and singeing my upper layers with a red burn. I kept in my seat until Christian came back to me after talking to the head of this operation, extending his hand and smile to me and helping me up. I heard discussion about departing from another airport in a weeks' time, one away from Heathrow and a name I know I won't remember. I questioned this at first but soon realised it may be a good idea as we approached the door, facing out onto the continuum of arriving and departing jets hitting the runways, filling the gaps with just minutes in between. Heathrow has got to be London's… No, _England's_ busiest airport - maybe even the biggest –so, it probably is a good idea to head home from a different, less busy one. Christian has little, to no patience ninety per cent of the time anyway, throwing in a shambles of people who aren't familiar with his specifics, and who want to rush him, and it could end up a complete nightmare. A nightmare for him, for those on the receiving end of his fury, and for me!

Christian pulled me into his chest for a hug just before I got ready to step out and face the freeze head on. His hands hauled me forward into his hold from the small of spine; his chin resting on the top of my head, gently rocking on his feet and swaying as he held me. I snuck my hands under his sweater, palming his crudely warm back and closing in on that additional contact that we both crave, and something I needed in that second.

No words exchanged between us. Just touch, connection and warmth sufficient for us; smiles creeping along our lips with thoughts that only we can know about.

Loosening his hold, and taking me by the hand to escort me out, I could sense that he was tensing up as we drew nearer to Gabby. I knew that thoughts of launching into round two of the attack on the flirtatious flight attendant were swirling around his mind at a million miles an hour. I could see it happening before my eyes, the way his mouth was twitching in the corner, with one side slightly inverted as if he were already biting his tongue, told me that he was coming up with his next move. Acting quickly I stuck out my elbow, striking him in the side and deterring his attention. It was nowhere near enough to wind him, but I didn't want to – I just needed him to look at me. He scowled at me, looking down his nose with that signature interrogation that only he can offer. I gave off a 'don't even think about it Grey' eyebrow raising death stare. It's a look I've perfected from Kate.

"What the fuck?" Christian grumbled at me, passing Gabby with a sideways glare reeking of disgust – my plan having worked and prevented yet more tears before sundown.

"Stop it." I whispered coldly. I cut him off before he could butt in. "It's not worth it so just leave it. Please, Christian."

"It's always worth it." He snaps back.

After a long, drawn out breath from me he quickly changed his direction, no doubt sensing where this could end up.

"Okay! Okay… But she's going straight back to Seattle. I don't give a fuck who is sent in replacement, but she's gone."

I rolled my eyes at him, turning on my heel and stepping out through the gap in the metal tube we've called home for the past nine hours. It earned me a tut and a mischievous, knowing stare from his seductive greys.

_Fuck. Someone's going to be paying for that later, and ten bucks says your ass gets it!_

"Wow."

The air struck me hard, like a slap clean across my face from a well-manicured hand, stinging the over-sensitive flush in my cheeks. I could feel the heat leave them instantly, along with my tensions, stresses and troubles. I left all of that on the plane heading back to Seattle to deliver Gabby to a world of unemployment, and to complete some GEH business before it comes back next Monday for us.

It's a cold, tingly sort of breeze reminding me of those crisp, winter's mornings where your breath fogs up the glass when you stand too close to the window, checking to see if the snow has finally graced your pavements, lawns and rooftops.

My feet clobber out onto the top step of the metal staircase cascading down to the floor, offering me this precious opportunity to once again take a glance of the London skies at such a height.

Taking a deep and long breath, expelling it all out into a cloud of haze seeping from my mouth, I truly open my eyes and chest to the heavens surrounding me.

The skies are a disconcerting shade of grey, full of mist and rain just waiting to beat down upon us. It's something reeking of warning, frugality and annoyance, but for me it's fragranced with brilliance, excitement and welcoming. Yes, the sun – if it even exists on this small island – is hiding behind the thick curtain above us, but what else would you expect from a notoriously rain stricken place in the beginning of December? This is Britain at its most casual, at its best and most homely offering, and I'm here to experience it! I'm here to experience it all. I don't care what happens or what we do while we're here; just knowing that Christian's done this for me is just… heart-achingly beautiful.

Christian's heart-achingly beautiful. _My beautiful, beautiful husband_.

The loud rumblings of engines cover us in all directions, ringing my ears with frenetic vibrancy; a sensory overload teasing me along with my burning nostrils from the freeze chilling me from the outside in. The only part of me which is exposed still and containing some level of warmth is my hand, neatly tucked away in Christian's palm. His other is glued to the curve of my back, sticking to me as we descend down the stairs toward the vehicles surrounding us, parked just a coin toss from the plane. A small crowd of half a dozen or so is formed in front of the cars, two of them being tall and alienated guys – both harbouring that look I've been forced to become accustomed to. I knew as soon as my eyes locked on them that they were the security Taylor has lined up for us.

The first steps out from the shadow of three smaller men, extending out his hand to Christian and charging forward to greet him with a slender, but military fashion stroll.

"Mr Grey." His voice is commanding, gruff and tense, but tripping off his tongue with clarity – precise and clean. "Benjamin Harper."

Christian accepts his hand, nodding his head at hearing Harper's name. He was clearly prepped on who were meant to be met by upon our arrival, but then again, what more did I expect from Mr In-Control? He probably has files on them. He probably knows their bankroll numbers too!

Harper is the taller of the two guys standing before us, marginally taller than Christian. His hair is shaped into a short style; one that I'm starting to think might be protocol for any type of security personnel world-wide. He's casual is his dressing, just a pair of dark wash jeans and a plain t-shirt hiding beneath a partly done up wool jacket, but he still manages to extenuate professionalism and control.

His introduction to me is clipped short, moving straight on to offer his companion to us – a much younger man named Travis. Riley Travis. He's so much younger than Harper, maybe even my age? His hair is, unsurprisingly, similar to Harpers, but sharper slightly at the ends and raven coloured, teamed with the deepest hazel eyes I've ever known. He smiles to me, leaving the hand shaking for Christian. I wonder whether it's just a professional thing, or whether it's deliberate.

I came to learn in those few seconds that Harper and Taylor go way back. Apparently they were both employed by some high-roller in Vegas – some shark who went to play blackjack one weekend and soon became a familiar at the tables. Taylor left the job to move closer to his daughter, quickly joining Christian and entering into a new life of gambling. Harper was the first person Taylor called when Christian told him we were heading to England, and that he wouldn't be joining us. Harper called in Travis from a security firm here in London, knowing that from what Taylor told him we'd need more back-up.

With his fingers still clasped around mine Christian tugged me along with him as he moved to deal with the three chipmunks jumping around desperately trying to grab his attention. All of them are bouncing around on the spot, eager looking and each no more than eighteen in their cheap, ill-fitting suits.

Not a single Armani or Tom Ford in sight. Not that I'd know the difference unless it's one of Christian's suits – I can just about tell the difference between them.

Judging by their clipboards and the twirling of car keys around their fingers, and the cars dotted around us, I gathered they were the car-hire company. Their grins and smirks quickly dropped as Christian met them; their mouths now open-wide with scolding etched into their expression.

I knew what caused their sharp change in mood. Hell, I think everyone this side of the Atlantic could feel the red mist clouding in Christian's eyes as he started gesturing heavily to the cars sitting in front of us. I half expected some sort of road-runner steam to blast out of his ears while he face swelled to the three times its regular size!

"What the fuck is this?!"

He shouts abruptly, cocking his head to the two slim-line, grey Audi's. If not for the steel rings fixed to the grills of the cars I wouldn't know that they were Audi's, but Christian's incessant need for Swiss or German cars would get me there eventually.

These shine with that new, fresh car sheen. The rims reflect the light perfectly, not a single smudge on them. A third car hides at the rear of the second, this one a much smaller, redundant looking vehicle.

I screw up my face trying to figure out what's caused this latest outcry. I mean, they're not exactly ugly cars.

"I did not order this." Christian blares, his teeth grinding as he adjusts his stance. He squares up his shoulders, hunching them. "These are not the cars I ordered. I ordered two _black_ SUV's."

"Erm… Christian? Can I call you Christian?" The most bashful of the three mumbles, stepping out of line from the other two cowering behind.

A long pause separates them.

I can't even bear looking at Christian's face. Not even I can handle that side of him.

"S-Sir… We have the forms here." He drops his head toward to the clipboard in his hand. "Yes, you did have SUV's as your preference but, sir, we did specify that it's not always possible to ac… accommodate first choice, sir. Especially as such short notice, Mr –"

"I'm not a fucking idiot. I understand that and I'm prepared to let that go. What you haven't explained is what the fuck happened to the colour. I said _black_." He lets go of my hand, letting it fall absently to my side. "Do you need me to write it down for you? Spell it out for you?"

"Sir, I don't appreciate your tone."

"My tone? You don't appreciate my tone?" Christian mimics him, folding his arms into his chest and ever so slightly stepping forward to tower over him. "_My tone?_"

_Oh fuck._

The chipmunk releases a sort of squeal, gulping loudly. "We have it down as grey Sir… If you wanted to change the colour then you really should have called us, sir." Turning the clipboard he extends it to Christian, his hand shaking fast. "T-Two grey SUV's for Christian Black."

"Oh for fucks sake!"

Christian pounds forward, pushing his hand up through his hair the way he does when he's well and truly pissed off. He towers over his opponent.

"Is it really that fucking difficult? Can you not understand very simple instructions? Am I talking in fucking double-dutch?"

_Shit. Shit. Shit…_

Instinctively I reach out and stab my fingers around Christian's arm, trying my best to tug him back and away from his newest victim. He's resistant at first, hauling away and dragging me with him.

"Christian!"

_Seriously? He's going bitch crazy over a car?_ My subconscious whines from a distance, propping herself up against the shiny new Audi.

I clamber in front of him, pushing him backwards with my palms flat on his upper arms. I use all of my might to break him, slapping my hands around the back of his neck to force his face to my level, to draw his attention to me and me alone.

I repeat his name several times, barking at him until finally his eyes lowered and rested on mine. The mist clears after a period of stilted silence.

"It's okay. Honestly Christian, it's okay."

"It's not okay." He grinds, his usually kissable and plump curves forming a hard and cold line along his face. "It is not what I asked for. They fucked up."

"And it's worth all of this? Look, I know they screwed it up but this really isn't worth getting all Mr Angry over."

"Yes, it is." He bites out in response. His head pushes back slightly, his lips pouting at me. "I am not Mr Angry. This is not angry."

"No, you're right, this isn't angry but I know that this is just a precursor to it, and I really don't want to spend this vacation trying to bail you out of a jail cell. So, please calm down. _For me?_"

I drop my hands from his neck, trailing my fingers around his front as I release him. My fingers cascade down his chest, feathering his sweater until I reach the hem. I toy with it in my fingers, maintaining complete eye contact and slowly watching as his wall crumbles.

"Fine!" He expels in a long sigh, his arms flying open and his hands smacking my hips on either side to hold me in place as he dips to kiss me forcefully. "Fine, but I'm not happy about this."

"You don't need to be. It's just a flaming car." I smile to sweeten this blow. Creeping up to my toes I press my lips to his again. "Does this mean we can get in the car now? Now, that you're okay with this?"

"No, I'm not okay with this but yes you can get in the car."

"Same difference, but thank God because it's freezing!"

Shivering, but still managing a cheeky sashay, I move quickly to the nearest car, opening the door and sliding into the back as quick as I can. It's equally as cold in here, the leather seats icy to touch but at least I'm protected from the wind thrashing around out there!

I stare out of the misty window at Christian talking to the chipmunks, no doubt firing fuck into them now that I'm out of earshot. He leaves their side and moves on to Ryan and Reynolds, and our two newbies; he speaks to them for a second, all of them soon jumping to order and heading to their respected cars. I watch as Travis and Reynolds head over to the car behind us, the one starting to be filled with our things. Harper and Ryan move toward ours, Christian joining them.

He reaches my door, opening it and stopping low to face me.

"Scoot over." Ordering me he taps my thigh, beckoning me to the other side of the car. He lowers himself as he starts to slide in before I've even had the chance to move.

I didn't have a choice really – move or be sat on!

"Really too much effort to walk around the car to the other side?" I bitch at him, shuffling my behind along the back seat and various buckles. I huff, slamming my back into the rest as I reach the other window, Christian settling into _my_ seat.

"You're not sitting behind the driver."

"Huh?"

I snap my head to the front seats, leaning forward to wonder what planet he's on. I've always sat on the right hand side of the car.

"Oh…" I bumble in a low sounding frequency, watching as Harper slides into the right side, in front of Christian and straight into the driver's seat.

"I forgot it's different here!" I puff and fall back into my chair, humouring over my obliviousness.

"Reynolds will follow in the other car, along with our things. Harper and Travis will be driving us while we're here. They're familiar with the roads and backward driving."

"Christian!" I swat him with the back of my hand, striking his knee before wrapping my fingers around it and squeezing hard. "It's not backward –" I subtly tilt my head to the driver, "it's just the other way around here. Come on, they probably think we're the backward ones."

I catch Harper's gaze in the mirror, a smile breaking over his otherwise hard face with a subtle nod of his head. He shakes it out correcting himself, fixing his eyes to the road ahead of him.

"Matter of opinion… Do you have details of our destination?" He turns his attention to the front seats.

"The Sat-Nav has collaborated the route for us, sir. We'll be taking the shortest route, down the motorways. We'll take the M4 out of the city, join the M5 and then the A30 until we reach your accommodation, sir."

_The A what?_

"ETA?"

"Based on current traffic we're looking at just less than six hours, but I can offer you something more once we're out of London. Traffic is always slow until you're out of the city, sir."

_Huh?_

I turn my head to Christian as the car pulls away from its spot, moving off at a leisurely pace toward the exits. I can see the other car following behind at a close distance, a distance they'll no doubt sustain throughout our journey.

_So, we're not staying in London?_

_Six hours away… From here?_

_Why the hell are we travelling that far? By car of all transport? _

"It was short notice." Christian answers me, brushing his fingers down the length of my arm, right down to my fingers clenched around his knee. "We were only able to get permission to land at Heathrow instead of one closer, and trying to fix a connecting flight would take even longer. I'm sorry, but when we fly home we'll go from a closer airport. I promise."

He peels my fingers from his jeans, slipping his hand under mine and pushing his fingers through the gaps lying in wait. He squeezes them a little, giving that sort of reassuring squeeze that would usually comfort me, if only his eyes weren't telling me something different.

He's been off all day. Well, since we left the doctor's office earlier… _Yesterday_.

_He's been off for more than just a day! Try a month!_ My subconscious tries to correct me, my thoughts running to strapping her to the hood of the car where she can stay. But, there's no mistaking she's right. Christian's always been mercurial but lately he's been worse than usual. I know my behaviour hasn't exactly been pristine, but he's snapped like an elastic band more times than I can care to remember… And a part of me fears it'll just continue to worsen.

"Baby, are you okay?" I ask him in a quiet voice, shying away from asking him outright why he's being so touchy recently.

"What?"

"Are you okay?" I ask again, not knowing if he didn't hear me or doesn't want to answer the question. "You just seem a little… Off-kilter. It's unsettling… Before you snapped… And on the plane…" I trail off, his face cold and expressionless.

"I'm fine."

He shrugs it off and turns his head from me to glance out of his window. His breathing shallows, his stomach almost motionless as he faces away from me. I tighten my fingers around his, drawing his gaze back to the inside of the car and not the gates of the airport exit.

"Ana, I'm fine."

"No, you're not." I persist.

_I know you Christian. _

His eyes brush around my face and he lets out a sigh. Pushing his head back into the seat he pauses for a second before rolling his head toward me.

"I'm out of my depth here. I'm just… Not comfortable with any of this, that's all."

_That's all? What sort of response is that?_

"With what?" I exasperate in a squeak. "Being here?"

_This was his idea, was it not? _

"No… God, no Ana, I'm glad we're here. So glad we're here, it's just… I'm not sure about anything of this. I have no idea what to expect or where we're going." He takes in a sharp breath, slamming his eyes shut and squinting hard before opening them again. "Yes, I planned where we're going and staying, and what we might do while we're there but that's it. I've not researched anything or planned ahead bar the basics. Everything I've arranged has been done in a rush over the phone or online."

"And that's what's worrying you? That it's going to be a surprise for you?" I ask, knowing how he gets with big surprises. I only have to think about how he reacted over Blip!

"I'm worried this is going to be a disaster like everything else."

His wide greys find mine, a sort of fear lurking behind them. The fear of disappointment.

"It's not going to be a disaster…" I laugh it off in an awkward silent shrug. "You've been snappy because you're worried you won't enjoy this?"

"That _you_ won't enjoy this." Christian corrects me. "I just want this to be perfect for you. I don't want to disappoint you."

"Christian –" I squeeze his fingers hard in between mine, rubbing them together and feeling his wedding band swirl against my knuckles. I bring his hand to my lips, kissing it all. "You never disappoint me. You can never disappoint me… Just as long as you're here with me everything is perfect."

His shoulders drop in relief, the stiffness and resistance in his arm loosening with his elbow dropping.

"It's okay Christian. Don't stress over this." I comfort him, lightly pressing my lips to his skin. "But, there's nothing else bothering you?"

He stills again, pursing his lips at me before shaking his head and forcing a smile over his mouth.

"No. That's all it was."

* * *

We hit the predicted traffic as soon as we drove out of the airport gates.

It was just car after car lining up in a mile long queue, each waiting to hit the 'motorways' as Harper called them. I appreciated his effort of trying to explain them in terms I could understand, but it was wasted. I sat looking at him in the mirror with narrow eyes and my head tilted, confusion taking over me. Christian stretched across, obviously noticing how lost I was in this discussion and tapped my hand, whispering to me 'freeway'. I nodded, suddenly it all making sense, once again rolling my eyes at my innocence and confusion over Briticisms. While a ton of the novels I've read stem from British hands, the majority of them are from the nineteenth century – not once was there anything about motorways, roundabouts or sat-navs!

The car stopped and started again a million times, idling for large periods while we waited for a gap to appear or the driver in front to move his car forward a little in response to something happening further along. I was coping fine with this minor inconvenience, taking the opportunity of looking at the streets and watching people walk by on the pavements. Christian on the other hand, not so much! Every time the car came to another halt he huffed, tutted or cursed under his breath, scowling openly to the sea of cars around us that must have been the cause to our inability to move, along with the endless run of traffic lights on red.

My calmness was disrupted by him, and his impatience over being held up. It was driving me to insanity hearing him making ridiculous noises every ten seconds.

Eventually I caved and snapped at him. I cursed and ordered him to my side of the car, to sit in the middle seat. He was silent in unhooking his belt and scooting over to me. I waited until he fastened the middle seatbelt around his waist, and settled in, before pushing into his chest. He threw his arm around my shoulders and gave me a clean shot at another stab in his side. This time it wounded him slightly, but it stung my elbow more to whack his ribcage. He caught my elbow with his hand, pushing it down it my side and pecking a kiss to my forehead. It was a sweet gesture, but I continued to tell him that if he didn't take a chill pill soon I'd aim lower down next time, rendering him useless for this entire vacation.

I mean, I'm supposed to be the impatient, hormonal one who flies off the handle at the drop of a hat – sometimes inexcusably but still, sometimes I wonder if hormones can be passed over to someone else!

Agreeing Christian hugged me into him, sliding closer to me. I leant into him, twisting to push my back into his side with this arm draped around my shoulder, his hand hanging low down to my stomach with both of mine around it. I sat facing the window, watching the world go by in the height of the English mid-afternoon traffic quarrels.

I can't escape or deny that a part of me waned at the knowledge that we're not staying in London, all of my memories from our previous stay are delicious and something I would love to reminisce in again. But after that initial low moment I was lifted, my mind whirling in trying to figure out where the hell we are going instead. I purposively kept my eye out for traffic signs, hoping that something might crop up fairly often enough for me to have some idea or clue as to the direction we're heading, but yet again it was lost on me and went straight over my head.

As soon as we hit the freeway… _motorway_… we were in the midst of high speeds, frantic overtaking of other cars and switching lanes more frequent than Christian thinks about sex.

I sat amazed at the road – the three lanes of speed and an empty one on the far end, just a metal barrier separating this side from the other on the right of us; large billboard like blue signs sitting on the left, offering out possibly useful information to knowing drivers.

We were on the road for maybe an hour or so before I lost interest in trying to wait to find out where we're heading, and trying to work it out for myself which is a pointless task to undertake. In that second I knew that if he wasn't going to tell me now, then I would force it out of him by whatever means possible to me.

"Christian?" I sang to him in a cunning hum.

"Yes?"

"Can I ask you something?"

"Ana…" His whispering of my name told me that of course I can, and that I shouldn't be so trivial to even ask.

"I know you said that you're not clued up on the finer details of this trip but you do know roughly where we're heading, don't you?" I blurt it out in a rush, toying with his fingers in my hand, consciously twirling his ring around his finger.

"Of course I do. Why would you even ask that?" He shuts me down with his clipped answer.

I struggle, but succeed in resisting the urge to bite back. "I just really want to know where we're going." Pushing forward from his chest I turn on my behind to look at him. "It's killing me all of this keeping it a secret shit. I need to know."

"Okay."

Lifting his hips up from the sit Christian shoves his hand down into his jean pocket, the one he's been fussing with all day. He rummages around in it for a moment, eventually pulling out his BlackBerry and switching it on.

"You're kidding me, right?" I probe him dryly, recalling his stressing that this would be a no work vacation – a vacation without his BlackBerry.

"It's just for emergencies, I promise. You can keep it if you want. Lock it way or do whatever you want with it. I said no work and I meant it." Christian protests to me, scrolling through the contents of his phone with that boy-wonder enthusiasm. I'll give him that much, he always looks more comfortable when he has it in his hand.

"I'll hold you to that." I curse him, crossing my arms around my chest and adjusting the fleece blanket he insisted I spread over my legs to help keep me warm.

"Here."

Handing his phone to me I accept it keeping my eyes on him, showing him I'm not exactly thrilled knowing that his phone is the third wheel on our vacation. I take it from him and look at the screen, looking at the maps application installed on his cell and showing the UK in a green blob.

Edging closer to me he reaches over to his phone, pressing a few buttons to zoom in on the picture and close in on the currently small red icon in the bottom left corner of the screen. I keep hold of the phone in my hands, his fingers deftly directing the cursor around the screen in a quick and concise movement. I kept still allowing him to deal with it. I'm totally inept where his phone is concerned – using it for the basics that a cell is intended for then I'm okay, but with these more technological and fancy programmes I'm perplexed. I've never enabled this app on mine, and I doubt I ever will. I only really need my cell for texts, calls, emails and for the camera – maybe the internet when I can be bothered but even then I tend to move to my computer. I've never had a Facebook account and I doubt I will, considering who I'm married to. Before Christian I didn't want one because I wasn't fussed about keeping up to date with who was hooking up with whom, and what parties were going on, but now I'm more concerned with someone tracking my personal life or finding something out and running straight into the always welcome arms of the press. If you're someone who I trust, and like then I'll keep in touch with you in person or through my cell, and not behind a computer screen and keyboard.

Zooming in a few times he directs me into the bottom left side of the country, right down into the foot of the picture and to a small strip of land that the red balloon is hopping over enthusiastically. I tried to read the words surrounding it but none of them were particularly clear, and the one directly beneath the red icon was worse than the others.

_Co… Cor… Corn - something?_

"Cornwall." Christian declares.

I snap my head up to his closing in on mine. "Excuse me?"

"It says Cornwall. That's where we're going."

_Huh?_

I'm a complete foreigner to most things British - I mean the tea I love, I could probably get by with knowing just the major cities and their rough location in the country, even the whole driving on the left side thing would grow on me soon enough, but never in my life have I heard such a weird word… or name.

_How the hell does he know about this place?_

_Did he play a game of pin the tail on a donkey or something?!_

"How?" I'm too baffled to spurt out anything with more substance.

"Trust me I had no idea either when I first saw it. As soon as I had the idea of bringing you back to England, I started looking around for things we should visit. I was on one of those tedious 'come visit us' sites and well, something caught my eye and I looked into it, and this is where it is." He drums the screen with this thumb, pointing to the now annoying jumping jack distracting me. "In Cornwall. The second I saw this… _thing_, I knew that we needed to go there."

"And there's not one of these _things_ in London?"

"As far as I know this is the only one here." Christian takes his phone from me, shutting it down and pointing it out to me that he's turned it off, before proceeding to shove it back into his jeans. "Besides, we're seen London already."

"I liked London." I tell him honestly. Looking back up to him I quickly change my stance, noticing the look on his face. "But I know I'll love this more. So much more."

He smiles at me with a grimace like curve of his lip. "I hope so."

"So… What's this thing we need to see?" I pry, trying to move this along and not linger on the negatives for too long. I lift his arm and tuck it around me once more, allowing me to curl into his chest with my head resting on him.

"Ana –"

_Jeez, I know that tone oh too well…_

"God, never mind. You're not going to tell me anyway. I get it, it's a surprise." I mock him, shaking my head in defiance over his stubbornness.

"Keep this up and I'll order them to stop the car at the nearest gas station." He purrs with his lips in my hair, talking quietly so only I can hear him. "I don't believe we've fucked in a public restroom yet."

* * *

"Ana…"

_No… Just two more minutes…_

"Ana, baby, I need to move." Christian's sweet and soft voice sings to me, his lips tickling my cheek for a second as he tries to pull my head away from his side. "I need to step out of the car for a minute."

I feel him shrug under me, his hands cupping my shoulders and gently pushing me away from his frame and over to the window, letting this be the support for my paralytic body. He carefully, and slowly, manoeuvres me, taking particular care with my head and keeping hold of it until he knows I'm holding it up for myself.

"What?" I whine, blinking my eyes hard several times as I snap myself out of sleep.

_How long was I out for?_ I think to myself suddenly becoming aware that everywhere is now in complete and utter darkness.

Bolting upright and sitting forward as best I can with my seatbelt cutting into my middle, the shoulder strap pushed off my body and behind me, I look all around to the despondency surrounding us. The light that was there when I was wake before now vacuumed away, leaving just this black velvet covering of the night sky. The only light I can sit is coming out of the dashboard ahead of us, the GPS lit up in a soft light with a blue arrow pointing north. My eyes start to adjust to the lack of light, the more bulky objects starting to gain shape.

Stumped I twist my head to look out of my window, checking all around me. No streetlights. _Anywhere_.

"Where… you…" I stumble over my words, clutching at the seat and Christian's hand as he tries to step out of the car. "Why?"

"It's okay, Ana." His hand turns under mine, cupping it sweetly. "I'll be back in a minute. I promise. I'll be real quick." He lets go of my hand, his slipping away and taking to his seatbelt – removing it in one swift motion.

"I'll come with you." I mumble sleepily, stretching out my arms and then looking down to my belt, struggling to even locate the thing let alone escape from it.

"No. You stay in here in with Ryan, it's too cold out. Harper and I will deal with this."

"Deal with what?!" My voice hitches up in the latter through startle.

"Shhh… I just need to talk to the person out there, okay? They own the place we're staying in."

_There's someone out there?!_

Before I have the chance to answer him, or try to stop him from leaving, both he and Harper exit the vehicle quickly. Their doors fire open and close in perfect harmony with one another, barely a breeze slipping through the car as they got out.

They moved quickly away from the car and I lost all sight of him as soon as he walked from the door and headed forward. The car is completely dead, just sat in the middle of what could be nowhere. I must have given out some involuntary whimper, either that or I'm just predictable, but whatever it was it caused Ryan to launch to the driver's side of the car, stretching to the wheel and flicking a switch – the headlights firing to life and showing up what is ahead of us in a brilliant white light.

I notice them walking away, turning sharply on their heels at the light now flashing strong on them. Christian pulls his hand up to his face to shield the light shining in his eyes, before turning his attention back to the figure at a large gate in the middle of this path we're on.

We're enclosed in a forest sort of place, just trees surrounding us on either side of this wet, dirt-trodden lane.

It's narrow – very narrow, maybe just enough for one car to drive down. Looking around at the features I can now see, I notice that the road is fenced off, overgrown bushes on the other side of it and shielding whatever is being protected from prying eyes.

Unable to see anything of significance I turn my eyes back to Christian, just as he and Harper met the side of this other figure – a man. He's wearing distressed jeans tucked into heavy-duty boots, a dark green gilet over a checked shirt and a flat cap on his head, the shadow covering a lot of his face. He looks young, not as young as Christian but it's too difficult to tell from this distance and arbitrary light. It's raining slightly, specks of it dropping onto the windscreen and starting to cover it fully. Christian stands out there for a few seconds more, Harper sticking to his side like glue – something I will be thanking him for later! The man passes over something to Christian before shaking his hand and turning his back on them, attending to the giant steel gate blocking our path through to wherever this road leads.

I follow Christian intently until he reaches the car, keeping my eyes on him at all times and making sure I know where he is. He brings in the cold with him, the snap spoiling the warmth that this metal casing has managed to accumulate from the heater and bodies in it, but I'd cope with it.

"Okay. It's all sorted now." He tells me, scooting back across the seats. I lean forward ever so slightly so his arm can slot back into its previous position around my shoulders, before I crush back into his side with my head collapsing straight back on to his chest. "I'm back now."

"What was that about?" I cuddle him, rubbing his stomach to disperse the cold stained onto his clothes. He does the same to my arm, stroking it up and down but with a softer, sweeter caress.

"That was the owner of the land. He was just greeting us and handing over the keys to the property."

"What's through there?" I point to the hood of the car, down toward the now parted gates and the guy standing off to the side of them.

"You'll see soon enough."

Christian gestures for Harper to continue forward, driving the car on through the gap. He lifts his hand in response to the guy at the gate who's dipping low to wave us on passed. I caught a proper glimpse of his face; he is fairly young, but definitely older than Christian. He could probably align himself better to Taylor's age group.

We drive slowly, following the path and its curves exactly. This, the other side of the gate is an even narrower lane, once again encased in barbed fences and forestry on either side. Large trees shelter the road, acting as a sort of canopy and blocking out whatever light there might have been from the moon. The headlights are dimmed down slightly as Harper moves us around the slight bend in the road, exposing yet more of the lane continuing on for what could be forever.

I flick my eyes often between the various windows to examine my surroundings in the fullest inspection I can, aided only from the light ahead. No lights flash or shine deep in front of us, just blackness swallowing us up as we further our exertion. My window is fogged in the middle, slowly starting to melt away from the corners and opening up the view to the hedges backing up on us at the sides, the path narrowing ever still. Every so often we'll pass a break in the greenery, a smaller gate blocking off entrance onto possibly a field. There must be several fields.

This must in the furthest corner of the world, well and truly in the middle of nowhere.

Harper keeps to a minimum of maybe ten miles an hour, careful to not scratch the car against the various branches sticking out toward us and the large fords of water filling potholes along the lane.

The lane widens slightly as we come into contact with a large, multi-storey building to the right of us. Coloured lights are hanging all around the roof, inflatable figures shaped like reindeer dotting the lawn bridging the gap between the front of the building and the road. It's some sort of beacon, signalling life to all above and showing that this place is inhabitable.

As we creep closer I notice yet more decorations all around the property – giant candy canes flashing on white sheeting, trying to replicate the snow that has yet to fall; a Santa Claus mannequin hanging from a section of the roof that sticks out a little more than the rest; and various sign posts pitched up in the lawn directing the way for the big man himself and his trusty steeds.

This place really is a child's dream come true; Santa's grotto with a little Willy Wonka's Chocolate Factory thrown in for good measure.

_Is this where we're staying? _

"Just a little further."

I nod my head to him and curl under his arm, resting effortlessly into his armpit. I toss the blanket around his legs too, covering him as well as me, not that he needed the extra warmth. Christian's rarely affected by the temperatures. He shows off gracefully whether it's sweltering or minus a hundred! He runs his fingers up and down the length of my arm, mine teasing the threads on his jeans just below the bend in his knee.

The car propelled forward faster than it has travelled so far down this road, putting to bed all wonderings I had thinking if Harper had lost the ability to use third gear. We gained considerable distance until he swung the steering wheel to the left, verging the vehicle around a sign post and up onto a gravelled surface.

The car jitters over this dishevelled and coarse ground, climbing the slight incline up toward a small, setback house. The engine of the car is shut off immediately after stopping, pulling up in front of the building. The car that has stalked us for our entire road trip comes up behind us, the lights of that shining through the back window of ours and illuminating everything inside with an alien glow.

"We're here." Christian tells me, lifting his arm from around my back and helping me sit up. "Come on, it's time to get out now."

I stare blankly, absorbing him slipping out of the door and closing it with a heavy slam before racing over to my side. Christian grabs my door and opens before I've even managed to tear the blanket from my front and find my seatbelt. The wind blasts through my door, filling the car with a whirling gust causing my hair to flick around my face and hamper my sight. The fresh, clean air tainted with agriculture bites the tip of my nose, plaguing it and firing it crimson.

Christian takes the cover from me, removing it from the car to fold it roughly and in hast. After bunching it up he slips in under his arm, holding it in place by squeezing it into his side, and stretches across me, reaching for the buckle sitting at my right hip.

"Are you okay?" He questions, flicking the catch and pulling it away from my body. I snap my head up from watching his fingers move around so concisely to catch his face inches from mine.

"I'm just peachy." I grin proudly, suddenly feeling a wave of excitement and adrenaline take over me. Pressing forward marginally I reach up with my hand to cup his jawline, touching his lips to mine gently for an intimate and fleeting kiss. "But a whole lot better now."

"Me too." He returns my smile, leaning in to steal a second kiss – one I give openly, honestly and irrevocably. "Come. Let's go check this place out. It's a surprise for both of us."

Accepting his hand I use him to shuffle from the car, finding that my legs have seized up and stiffened from having them bent and compacted from the front passenger seat sitting so close.

I guess Christian was right about not getting the SUV he asked for! If I had known then that my legs would feel this achy I'd have flipped out at them!

Shaking out my limbs, popping the air in my joints, I find myself abruptly in his arms as he cocoons me from behind. His front slamming into my back and arms wrapped around my abdomen tight, walking me along the short paved route toward the large, dark wood door ahead.

Tossing my head back I take this moment to check out the building in its entirety, thankfully away from the confines of a piece of glass and a thick black frame around it.

It's a small house – small in width, less so in height, but still it sits in possibly just two storeys. What brickwork I can see is odd, with a mismatch of different colours, shapes and types, but I can hardly tell – lighting is an issue, of course, but the primary reason is the vast, creeping ivy tree scaling the walls up and around the front of the house. The windows have been trimmed of the overgrown plant, showing off quaint, wooden diamond panelled looking glasses lit up with a rosé hue filtering out. There are four windows to the front, each varying in size and the one to the right of the door being the largest of all them. Arching over on my heel I look to see if I can peer through the window closest, but drapes lie on the other side blocking out any intrusion. All of the windows are lit up with this candescent, dull glow caused by blackout drapes.

The overbearing door is sheltered with a tiled arbour, providing the doorstop with a porch like feel - either side of the lower roof supported by small stone columns, both decorated with a spiralling holly and mistletoe like garland, red berries stuck inside to add colour to the festive greens. This added feature accompanies the wreath hanging on the door nicely, not overwhelming the property with the gusto the one previous declared. Though, twinkling snowdrop lights drip from the arbour, mystifying and bringing Christmas with it as they flash in sequence, glowing like icicles in a blue light.

A black, old-style lantern is alight, and flickering next to the porch – the bulb inside replicating a candle, creating a new worldly transfer back to traditions centuries ago. A brass knocker reflects off this flickering light, drawing my attention to its place in the centre of the door above the peep hole.

I swivel on my heel, still locked in Christian's hold. Tossing my arms around his neck I pull him down into my embrace, cuddling him snug into my front with the same clarity he did with me just seconds ago. On my toes to not force him to my level fully I peer over his shoulder, the two vehicles dead and parked in a line across this driveway made up of pebbles. A minute grass verge stems off around the left side of the property, following around the fence trailing off to the rear. The whole lot is fence in, as has every inch of this land. A few elder trees sit just outside the perimeters, tidier greens lacing the shell holding and protecting this place.

The loud slam of a car door snaps my eyes from the scenery, catching Ryan just as he retrieves the last luggage case from the back of the second car. With an apologetic smile he walks over to us, setting it down beside the other bags mounting up. Christian has probably packed nine-tenths of our closets; or rather he had Gail do it for him, resulting in the two large suitcases, three holdalls and a carry-on next to us.

"Sir, do you want us to bring them in for you?"

"No. We'll be fine from here." Christian shoos him, pushing forward and walking me backwards to the door in front of him, and behind me. "Thank you, Ryan."

"It's no problem Sir."

He disappears, stalking off around the side of the house and down to where I presume the other three have gone to. Creeping forward and resisting Christian's movements I try to see if I can spot where they've gone, failing miserably.

"There's a smaller place around the back. They'll be staying there to offer us the privacy we need."

"Is that… You know… A good…" I trail off, unable to surmise my thoughts or find a word to describe them appropriately.

"Yes, of course it is. All of this land is secure. Baby, I wouldn't take you anywhere that wasn't." He assures me calmly, lowering his hands to rest on the top of my butt. "They're spitting distance from us, on call twenty-four-seven if we need them. But, if anything does happen the farmer will contact us. He'll know if anything is happening before we do."

I groan a little as he nuzzles into my neck, his tongue licking up the side and teasing the conical shell of my ear.

"Farmer?" I crumble into a whine. "The guy from the gate?"

"Yes, he's a farmer. He and his wife own all of this. From the looks of it a good several acres, but I don't know what type of farming they do. I haven't seen much as we've gone by."

"It's really… _really_ dark." I wince as he takes my lobe between his teeth, clenching it and ringing my ear with a sharp twinge.

"It is…" He mutters in between lashing of sucking hard and gently kissing my ear, moving to my favourite spot just behind the shell. "This used to be their home, until they started their family. That eyesore over there is their home now. It used to be barn or something… He told me in his email that they've only just started to rent this place out and we're the first to hire it."

We stand bracing the wintry heavens for a few minutes, snuggling like penguins on the artic floor trying to keep warm and protect our young.

"We really should get inside." Christian splits, his words telling me one thing but his tightening hold telling me another. "Reach into my pocket and grab the keys?"

"Don't think I don't know where this is going." I laugh at him, pre-empting the orgasmic sounds he'd make as I dip my hand into his pocket.

"Baby, I'm already hard for you. We know it's going to end up with you naked at some point, all we need is to get inside first."

I take the keys from his pocket, reaching down and purposively skimming him to check if he was being entirely truthful and to my delight he was. He was pressing hard into the denim, bulging at the seams. With a salacious grin split over my lips I shoved the key in the door and somehow worked out the lock, opening it wide onto the inside of this small house; this small, secluded and deluxe cottage.

"Go explore. I'll get our things." He waves me on, stepping back to our things and starting to pick them up. "Go on. I'll catch up."

I was unaware of my hesitation or my fingers twiddling in front of me but he noticed. Urging me on another time I took the plunge, nodded to him and stepped on in into the heat pouring out.

It's like a sauna in here, the sweltering warmth a welcome change to the ice blast whirling around out there! I enter into it, rubbing my hands together furiously and checking out the beauty of the smallest living space I have encountered… Well, for a house it is.

Under my feet are the darkest wooden floors, covered sporadically by patterned rugs of differing styles and sizes. They're odd to place together but it works. A small staircase greets me as soon as I enter, sitting right in front of me but slightly to the left, the bottom of it partially blocked by the door swinging back on its hinges to allow Christian a clean entrance inside. The wooden flooring extends up it and from the looks of it it might flow through the whole of the place. I lean back on my heel to glance up the stairs, trying to imagine what lies up there in order of rooms and layout, but I see only vanilla walls - the same colour that dominates this room I'm in now.

This room being the family room, cluttered with necessities and not a television in sight.

One feature catches my eyes over the others, taking precedence and tantalising my mind in a delightful fury. The stone fireplace extends wide along the far right wall; the whole side of the room rustic and defiant. The mantel over the hearth is dotted with small keepsakes – snow globes, miniature figurines and clocks, and more garland draped around it in pure Christmas spirit. Beside the place is a stockpile of logs all queued up and waiting for their chance to burn like the ones already sitting in the hollowed out brickwork. It's not lit at the moment, but I know it will be beautiful, celestial and serene when it is. I sniff hard imagining the wood burning scent that will seep out from it and fill the house when the flames majestically rip through the logs, cracking them as it grows more striking and alive.

I trail around the room, shuffling along the floors all wide-eyed in trying to take every detail in, but I know it'll be my aim for this vacation, that and spending as much time in the arms of my husband as possible.

The ceiling is incredibly low down, the black beams exposed and disrupting the white crumpled effect that flows overhead. Staring at it for too long made me think whether Christian is too tall for this, but turning to face him as he brings in some of our things I realise he's just the right height, the ceiling maybe a foot higher than his head.

Two large couches sit around the fireplace, one in the deepest cranberry and the other in cream. A plain coffee table fills the gap between them and the fire; a glass bowl on top of it holds potpourri and large pinecones, my head nodding in notice of that being the pleasant smell that I encroached on as I entered.

Small lamps are dotted around the room giving off the light, no overhead lighting here. Each of them sits on a different surface, soft and pink light coming off them from the red shades wrapping around the head of them. The third of them sits on a small end table positioned beside a floor to ceiling bookcase. Standing at the side of it I run my fingers over the titles on the middle shelf, noting all of the classics and all of them books I love and cherish: Pride and Prejudice; Great Expectations: The Picture of Dorian Grey and, of course, Tess of the D'Urbervilles. Every book I have enjoyed right here at my disposal to pick up whenever I want.

I pass an arched walkway leading on to the kitchen around the end of the house. I continue past it, touring this room first before I move on. Though, there is little else in this room to examine bar a medium sized Christmas tree fully decorated in gold's, reds and greens with a snow angel sitting atop it. Gold tinsel wraps itself around the branches in between the lights flashing away in a snowing effect. White and red uniquely decorated ornaments are scattered around evenly, but not in an obsessive way. I finger them, stroking the branches and surprised to not feel the tips stab me.

This tree feels weird… It feels softer and doesn't carry that pine scent, or that of a newly cut tree. Needles aren't scattered all over the floor, and there isn't a sheet underneath it to catch them. Leaning in to it to inspect it properly I realise it's a fake.

"It's well decorated."

"Jesus!" I jump forward, clutching my heart over my jacket and feeling it pound hard in my chest, skipping a beat as it wanes.

"Sorry." Christian apologises quickly, his hands clasping my arms and turning me to face him. His hands switch to my face, cupping and framing it as he strokes over the whiteness overtaking my cheeks. "I didn't mean to scare you."

"I know. It's okay… My heart doesn't know if it's coming or going, but it's okay."

"Sorry."

"You like the tree?" I indicate by cocking my head behind me.

"It's well decorated, but it's a fake."

"Like that really matters." I shrug, admiring the appeal of it and the adoration that must have gone into decorating it.

"I just don't see the point in having a fake tree. I've always had real ones."

"You used to decorate the apartment?"

"Gail did." He sets me right. "I would pay for everything and she would decorate the apartment, but I was rarely there. During the holidays I was always at my parents, whether I liked it or not. I only went back to Escala when I needed to work or when…" His arms still as he cuts himself off from continuing down that train of thought.

"Yeah, it's probably best to not go down that avenue."

"If I could erase that part of my life I would. You know I would."

"I know but it doesn't bother me, just so long as I don't think about them and you… I just see them as ways of occupying your time until I came along." I smile at him, shaking off the idea of Christian coming home from his parents' house and straight into the playroom to fuck his latest sub.

That thought was a hard one to shift, especially being in his hold in that second and looking up at his face… Thinking where those lips had been before them came to me…

_Snap out of it! _

I squeezed away from him, smiling as I went so as not to cause a scene, and moved on through the arch and into the kitchen.

"We'll have a real tree when we get home. Not one of these cheap looking things." His voice shouts out to me as I move away.

"My Mom always has a fake tree." I tell him. "She doesn't like cleaning up the needles."

"It's not Christmas unless you have a real tree. What's the point in celebrating if you're not going to do it right?"

"And what's the point in Christian Grey if he has nothing to moan about." I mumble, opening up the refrigerator door. The inside is full to the brim, stocked with all of the basics we'd need: milk, eggs, Orange juice, different cuts of meat – but thankfully no poultry – and yoghurt. I didn't think he heard me, thinking that my rattling around would have blocked it out.

"I think you'll find you're the one who moans. I believe I make more of a grunt."

Turning back on myself I shake my head at him, sternly looking at him with my eyes but an uncontrollable smile striking my lips.

"You're always thinking about sex, aren't you?"

"Only sex with you, baby." He props himself against the archway, crossing his feet at the ankle. "You're the only person I want in my bed."

"What about couches, desks and tables?" I wink, giggling as I examine the door at the far end of the kitchen.

The space in here is very small in comparison to what we're used to. I guess this would be okay for just the two of us to move around comfortably, but I can understand why the owners moved out as soon as their kids came along. Adding more people to this equation would be stressful at the best of times. I suppose it's a good thing that Christian doesn't cook – I'll never have to worry about him getting under my feet!

The door leads on to a small dead-end corridor, a smaller door sitting on either wall opposite one another. The room to the left is a laundry – a washer-dryer and ironing tools, along with fabric softeners and other cleaning products. The other is a small shower room, the contents tiled and holding a small toilet, basin and a shower cubicle.

Christian takes me by the hand after asking whether that's it for the bottom floor – to the best of my knowledge it is, unless there are more hidden rooms around here. He walks me through the family room again, guiding me over our bags and up to the staircase to check the upstairs. Christian tells me that we'll leave our things until the morning, when we'll have a night's sleep under us. It's pushing eight or so and I know that he's starting to wane – he keeps blinking and rolling his eyes around his head in an attempt to keep them open.

The staircase contains just eight narrow steps, forcing even me to climb them on the balls of my feet with no room for my heel.

"Whoa!"

Climbing to the top of the stairwell I wait for Christian to move out of my line of sight, allowing me the opportunity to see what had him so astonished.

The stairwell leads straight onto the master bedroom, and what I believe to be the only bedroom in this, our cottage for the next seven days.

The whole of this house is open plan, excluding bathrooms of course, and every detail, colour and feature seems to flow from one room onto the other neatly. The cream walls from downstairs have continued here, again a small rug – this one a chocolate and caramel pattern – covering part of the floor. A series of dainty landscape pictures scatter the walls, filling up the gaps that would otherwise lie bare and hostile.

The biggest and most important part of the room sits under the small window opposite, the head and foot board of this king-size bed white iron with gold accents. The linen is sweet in all white, just small pink and red roses imprinted on it. It's a bit feminine for Christian, but it's what suits this house. This house is a feminine haven of romance, passion and picturesque ideals.

On either side of the bed are matching white wood tables, each with a small lamp on top of it. One table holds a vase of what I assume are fake flowers – roses in orange, pink and white – and the other holds a small carriage clock, made from porcelain like material. A bulky and protruding closest takes up a large section of the room, over in the right corner and near a door leading off the master bathroom. I slither away from Christian toward the bathroom, pushing open the door a little further and noticing this one is so much bigger than the small, one person cubicle downstairs. Again, this room is completely tiled in white, a plain basin under a small, box window and a toilet beside it. I was thrilled to see a tub replacing a shower cubicle, but disheartened at its size. The tub is oval shape and narrow, big enough for only one person and even then it would be a tight squeeze. I mean, by the looks of it my knees will be in my throat!

"It looks like showering and bathing is going to have be separate while we're here." I call out to Christian, my voice echoing through the room and bouncing off the tiles.

"We'll just have to be imaginative."

I look around me for a second, hesitating. "Do I even want to know what you're thinking right now?"

"Probably not!"

He rips open into a smirk, the left side of his mouth rising higher than the right. He stands in the middle of the room, tugging his sweater up and over his head then tossing it absently on the bed.

"I'm going to get our overnight things. We'll deal with the other shit in the morning."

"Okay. Can you make sure you bring up my wash bag, please?" I ask him, knowing that I'll need my toothbrush and personal items for the morning.

"I'm on it."

While he's down there, rooting through the bags and searching for my lilac wash bag and undoubtedly checking the doors a thousand times before coming back up to here to me, I begin to undress.

I slip off my jacket first, folding it and leaving it at the foot of the bed. I remove my jeans and my t-shirt at super-speed, until I'm left in just my underwear – a deep maroon bra and matching briefs set, non-wired for obvious reasons. I chose them myself when I got home from the doctor's office. Christian had gotten Gail to set aside a change of clothes for me to dress in for our journey, but while I was okay with the rest of her choices, I really do draw the line at underwear! I had to be able to choose at least one thing for myself and it was the underwear that had to be compromised, aside from my odd preference in socks.

A violent shiver trembles through me while I wait for Christian to come up here with our things, and preferably some clothing. A draught blasts through me, dropping my core temperature rapidly and I know it can't just be from my lack of clothes right now.

"Christian!"

"What?"

I stroll over to the stairs, standing at the top with my arms folded around my chest in an attempt to stop the explosion of Goosebumps over my skin, the unintended result of which being my breasts pushing together and making them look so much bigger than they are – not that they need the added swell, it's like carrying watermelons around on my chest already!

"Now, that really is a sight to behold." He drones, standing up straighter with the smallest of the suitcases in one hand and a holdall in the other. He shakes his head from side to side, ribbing his lip with his teeth.

"Hurry up, I'm cold!" I cry out feeling the ripples spread over my skin along with my shakes.

"Here –" Setting down the bags he slips his hands under the collar of his t-shirt, lifting it over his head. "Put this on."

He throws it up to me and I narrowly catch it, having to arch forward to take it in my grasp.

"Put that on and get into bed… I'll be up in a minute."

I do exactly as he says, sliding the t-shirt over my head and proceeding to unhook my bra from underneath it, sliding the straps down my arms and pulling it off through the one sleeve. I toss it to the ground, leaving it near the stairs and sprinting over to the bed where I push back the covers in a panicked frenzy for any resolution that can help stop the bumps tearing through my skin.

"Fuck. Shit. Shit. Shit. Fuck…"

I jolt around, the coolness contesting against my already shocked skin. I shimmy around the bed, roughing up the sheets and trying to warm it up, expelling the curse lingering on my prickly exterior.

I sheath myself in the comforter, pulling it right up to my face and hiding beneath it.

"The heating shut off. I've tried to reset it but I can't work that piece of motherfucking crap out for shit." Christian grumbles angrily as he climbs back up the stairs. "I'll have to call the owner to reset it for us, or at least tell us how to work the bastard thing."

"Is it coming back on at all, or is it broken?" Thoughts of turning into an ice cube during the night beat through my mind.

"No, it's just programmed. It's meant to come on at seven in the morning, stay on till eleven, and then it'll come back on at three till seven thirty."

Hitting the top stair he throws down our things, kicking them to one side and moving out into the bedroom space wearing just his jeans hanging low, exposing the label of his boxers and that delectable V in his pelvis.

"I got you something to eat."

I look to his hand and the plate resting there, noticing that its crackers as he meets the bed.

"I would really appreciate it if you'd at least try." Christian pleads, setting himself at the end of the bed, crossed legged with the plate resting in front of him.

I sit up, clutching the comforter to my chest in a conscious resistance to his request.

"I know you can't eat if you're not hungry but you've not eaten much today. I just need –"

"I'll try." I whisper, reaching for the plate and setting it down closer to my lap. He mouths a thank you to me, relief washing over him.

I take one of them in my fingers, my stomach flipping a little at the feel of it. I'm not sure whether it's from sickness, simply at the thought of eating it, or if it's through hunger.

I find myself subconsciously sniffing it before accepting it into my mouth, a further test to whether I can stomach this.

Taking a chunk out of it I chew it slowly, whirling it around my mouth a few times. I struggle to swallow it at first, but find that after a while it becomes easier. I hold out the plate to Christian, offering him some. He shakes his hand to me, refusing it point blank.

"You've not eaten much either." I persist, shoving the plate to him and standing my ground.

He hesitates before taking the plate from me and finishing off the contents. I smile with relief as he takes it away from me.

I really have no control over my eating – not with Christian and Blip around!

Finishing up what little there was on the plate Christian places it onto the table next to the bed. He rises back to his feet, unzipping his jeans and stepping out of them.

"Hmm…" I groan loudly, pressing my thighs together to quench and easy the heavy feeling growing at my apex.

I spy him as he stalks around the room, switching off the lamps and clearing the room of light. He becomes just a figure moving in the dark until he finds a gap between the comforter and the bed, sliding in after laying a throw over the top of me – telling me that he's not prepared to wake up next to a Popsicle in the morning. I scoffed at him; the way I look now 'iceberg' would be a more fitting description.

"Fuck, shit it's cold!" He curses, rubbing his forearms madly in an attempt to warm up.

"There is one sure fire way to warm up though…" I roll over to face him, forming an ark in my brow and reaching across to feather his bare chest.

"I know more than one way baby, but right now all I really want is you… over here. In my arms."

* * *

Unhinging myself from Christian's arm I shuffle away from him, moving over to my empty and cold spot on the bed. The sheets are like ice, the comforter and countless throws having occupied the other section where I've laid for the past few hours, curled up around Christian as he slept.

My back makes contact with the mattress, my pillows in Narnia for all I know or care. I huff loudly as I push my hands up to face to rub my cheeks, the one side feeling flush and the other like Antarctica. I fidget my legs beneath the sheets still covering them, kicking them off completely and exposing my bareness to the freeze whispering through the air.

_I give up. This clearly isn't going to happen._

I've wriggled around the bed, tossed and turned for hours with not a single iota of sleep coming to me. My exterior is shattered, aching and holding that dull sort of stiffness that comes hand in hand with exhaustion, but on the inside I'm wired as if I've downed a gallon of coffee.

_My body clock is fucked._

Glancing to the side of the bed I check the small counter clock, taking in that it's only 3:43am.

"Eight hour difference makes it… seven forty-three…" I mumble to myself with a groan, and a whine.

I know that the time zone difference has messed me around, but sleeping on the plane helped a lot to battle it. It made sense seeing as when we stepped on-board it was dark and when we got off it was light out, but sleeping in the car ride over here is what has done the most damage. Any hopes or dreams I had of trying to adjust to this GMT time flew out of the car window as we drove at high speeds down the 'motorway', and I cocked my head onto Christian's shoulder to snuggle into him while I drifted.

My patience, along with the inability to force myself to sleep have long gone and moved on out of here.

Gathering the courage I peel myself from the bed, swinging my legs around the side as I try to sit up. My legs dangle over the sides, my toes almost touching the wooden flooring. I twist my t-shirt around my front, the bottom clinging to my stomach with a large chunk of material simmering in the back. I grip the sides of the bed with my fingers, aiming to move off from the mattress without disturbing him. I've tried to keep quiet all night, wanting and needing him to stay asleep to which I was thankful he did. He murmured only once – I wriggled a little too enthusiastically against him and he groaned, shuffling his hips into the bed, but soon after he sunk back into a deep sleep with repetitive breathing.

The mattress dips behind me, the sounds of the sheets crumpling as I feel him shift and turn. I sit perched on the edge completely motionless, frozen and destined to remain this way until I know he's still asleep and I haven't woken him with my restlessness.

"Ana?"

His voice cracks in the natural break in my name, a sleepy noise creeping from his mouth making him sound detached and drowsy, hungover almost.

"_Baby?_ You okay?"

"Fine… Go back to sleep." I whisper to him, facing forward and preparing to move off the bed, and to leave him in peace.

"Baby… Let me look at you."

With a small sigh I shift, twisting on my behind to face him and sit on my hip to do so. I catch his face in the darkness, his eyes half closed. Christian's moved closer to me, lying on his front and exposed from the bed linen as I am.

Reaching out with his hand he clasps my knee, his fingers tracing my thigh as he merges forward to close the gap between us.

"Ana…"

"Shhh… Go back to sleep." I soothe him, tapping the back of his hand to signal him to release me.

"What's wrong?"

"Shhh… I can't sleep, that's all. I'm fine. Just go back to sleep." I assure him, sensing the worry in his tone.

"Lie down with me…" Christian moans, patting the bed in the space I should be occupying before shuffling to his side.

I pause, wondering what the best form of action should be.

_I can't lie here for another couple of hours, no matter how surreal it is to watch him in slumber. _

"Okay." I tell him.

_I can always head downstairs when he's asleep once more_.

With a brief smile I twist to him fully, sliding back to my previous position on the bed. He pulls the covers over me, sheltering me again as he had done earlier.

We both roll onto our sides to face one another, nothing but our feet touching, although our heads are a little too close for comfort unless kissing comes into play. Even though it's pitch black, enough to usually shadow our expressions from one another, I can see the details and contours of his face and it makes me smile_. A true smile._

His lips are mushed into that pouty expression he does when he's tired; he pouts in his sleep too. His eyes are heavy, his lids bearing a lot of weight and concealing much of the whites around my favourite greys. Lying beside him, when it's just the two of us and nothing else matters, never fails to raise a smile to my lips.

"The time zones?" He pries, his fingers reaching up to trail my face, ending with his palm cupping my cheek sweetly. Pushing his hips forward he closes the space even further, my stomach meeting his.

"I'm still on Seattle time, I think." I tilt my face into his hand, it warm and soft against the cold side my cheek. "I'm fine. You should really go back to sleep. I didn't mean to wake you."

"I know, but it's my job. If you're awake then so am I… That's just the way it works. It'll be the same when Blip's here and ruining our sleep patterns instead of jetlag."

"Ha… So is that you offering to take the night feeds? When it's four in the morning and he's screaming the place down, you'll deal with him?" I quiz him, arching my brow in query.

"I don't think I'll be the one tackling the feeds, well that's if you're insistent on nursing?"

I nod my head in response. I will be nursing as long as I'm able to.

"Because if you didn't want to nurse, then I won't pressure you into it. It's your body, your decision."

"I want to breastfeed. It's what they're for. They're Blip's, not mine."

"Mine." His eyes flash open, a mist clouding them slightly. His eyes clouding with thirst. "They're mine. Blip can borrow them but they'll still be mine."

"You can tell him that then." I grin at him. "But if I'm feeding him then what will you be doing? Why would you be awake if it only takes one of us?"

"I'll be at your side. Watching you. Supporting you. Whatever the hell you need me to do… We're a team in this, Ana."

"Family." I correct him. "We're a family."

"Family." He smiles broadly, caressing my cheek. "And that's exactly why I'm awake now, and why I'll stay awake."

"I'm okay."

"Do you want tea or something? It might help a little?"

Christian shifts before I can answer him, attempting to push out of bed and head down to the kitchen below. I grab him, holding him in place as I press up onto my side to stammer to my knees. I push him onto his back, my fingers clawing at his shoulders and pinning him to the bed. Shuffling over slightly I press my weight into him as I clumsily aim to straddle his hips. His hands guide me, helping me over safely.

"I love you." I mumble hastily, slumping down to smack my lips against him. I kiss him hard. "I don't want tea."

Removing my right hand from his shoulder I trace my fingers down his front, reaching down between my thighs. I cup him through his boxers, feeling him instantly grow hard in my hand.

"I want this." I purr to him, flicking my tongue over his bottom lip. "This is mine."

Suckling his lip hard, grazing my teeth along it seductively, I release him and shimmy down his legs until I hit the end of the bed.

I tease the hem of his boxers for a minute, looking up at him through my lashes as I crouch over him as best I can with my stomach resting atop his shins. He's still as I slip my fingers underneath the elastic and tug him free. He lifts his hips slightly to help me slide them down, his length springing to life and continuing to swell and strengthen before me.

I take him in my hand at first, fisting him at the base and slowly devouring him in a long, clenched motion up to his tip. Meeting the tip I tower over him higher, my ponytail collapsing around my shoulder and lying on his hip. I lick my lips, moistening them in preparation and showing to him my clear and definite intentions. I open my mouth, forming the perfect O to accept the tip of him cleanly.

"Oh… So you're hungry?" He mouths through sharp inhalations.

I answer him with my continuation. Hollowing my cheeks as I take him further, forcing him into me. Taking and greedily exploring what's mine.

"Fuck… God, Ana!"

His hand reaches down to cup the back of my head, his long fingers fisting into my hair to hold me as I pleasure him and take him over and over. I come up for a second, exploring him from base to tip, until he slips out of my mouth, to stare up at him.

"Very…" I pant, feeling my sex pulsate at the sight of him. "You said we had to be on solid ground before we could do this… You made me wait."

I tighten my fingers around him, squeezing him and watching him thrust up a little meeting the rise and fall of my fist.

"Hmm… You better get ready… Because I'm about to rock your world, _Sir_." I tell him, biting down hard on my lip and teasing it till it pops free from my teeth.

"Rock my world, huh?"

Lifting his head from the pillow he slides his arm beneath it, propping his head up so he can look down at me. His eyes fix to mine, flaring up to him with desire, thirst and need while my hand pumps him.

"And how exactly are you going to do that?"

"First…" I whisper, leaning over him once again and tracing my tongue loosely over his tip – flicking it repeatedly. "I'm going to fuck you with my mouth."

I push him into my mouth, accepting all of him until he hits the back of my throat and sucking hard on the way up again. His hips push up to meet my motions.

"Oh…. Fuck… Ana. Shit, yeah… Hard like that." He pants, his fingers tightening in my hair. "Love you… Oh, fuck…"


	64. Chapter 64

**Disclaimer:The characters portrayed in this story are those in E L James's Fifty Shades Trilogy, therefore they remain her property. The plot and themes in this story are those of the author. The author is in no way affiliated with James. All recognisable brands, places or persons are the property of their respected owners and are in no way the property of the author. No copyright infringement intended.**

**Hi Guys!**

**I hope that you've all had a really good break and holiday! And, hello 2013! I hope that this year brings you all peace, happiness and a lot of laughter and smiles!**

**Sorry for the lack of updates but with the holidays and family stuff I've been super busy! That and to be truthful with you I just needed a break away from anything that involved thinking too much! ****I have been writing away like a mad lady and so far I have a few good scenes ready for future chapters! I have the next few chapters planned out, so I hope that I'll be able to start churning them out more efficiently than I have been previously! But again I thank you for your support in all of this!**

**Even though I was purposively taking a mini-break I do feel bad for having left a delay in uploading. This chapter comes to you as a gift of sorts just to give you something to wet your appetite before the next two come flying at you soon! Chapters 65 and 66 will probably be uploaded at the same time as one another, they sort of run into one another. Either way they will be posted within a relatively short amount of time.**

**I'm now locked away in my hobbit like bedroom working on the next instalment and I hope that it'll be ready very, very soon - the bones of the chapter are completely done, it simply needs fleshing out a little in order to reach you guys!**

**Anyway, I hope you're all well and I look forward to hearing from you soon! Thank you for your best wishes!**

**This chapters a little LEMONY for you... Call it a belated holiday gift! ;)**

**Much Love and Happy Reading!**

**Chelsea xx**

* * *

Christian and I are complete when we're together.

Two halves making a whole.

We fit like a jigsaw, two differing slabs that slot together perfectly and in harmony. The break that is unavoidably separating them is invisible to the naked eye, and indifferent.

When it's just the two of us, and we're in each other's arms, it's as if nothing can separate us. We're undamaged, impenetrable and united. When I feel his warmth on my skin, his hands roaming my body and his eyes dedicated to mine honourably, I can't help but smile and feel that weightless feeling that fills me with joy and happiness knowing that nothing can harm us, or divide our bond but simple raw, unadulterated pleasure and ecstasy.

We were lost in our world for hours, moving as one unit as we conceded into our desires and revelled in the paradise we created.

I find myself feeling alert and refreshed as I wake to the saffron infused scowl blasting onto the wall opposite me. The drapes are still drawn to a close behind me, forming a barrier from the bright glare of the presumed morning sun, but as I roll my head toward the clock nearby reality creeps forward, the hands forming beautifully over the twelve.

I starfish on top of the mattress, tangled in bedding and feeling flushed and clammy. I rock my head back as I stretch out, spreading my arms and legs into a five-pointer and yawning excessively. It shudders through me, tingling its way through my core till it evaporates into the bed. I shake it out, bashing around with a childish laugh bursting from my smile. As I move around the metal work of the bed creaks ardently, the springs of the mattress toy and groan to contort to my efforts, both delicious and reminiscent sounds that bring a flushed smirk to my lips.

It all comes flooding to the front of my mind; mine and Christian's very, _very_ early morning work-out as clear and fresh as the renewed spasms trembling between my thighs.

I eagerly and proficiently 'helped' Christian to his climax… Multiple times and starting with my mouth, on occasion my hand coming in handy also.

I switched up my technique, bouncing off his movements, expressions and groans to gauge what I needed to do to get him to peak. When he came for the first time I made a firm mental note to always, _always_ use my tongue to… Well, to just use it more.

I lost count of how many times I felt his hips give way under me just seconds before he stilled and trembled as he poured himself into me, with an intense heat passing through him. I felt it in my mouth and between my thighs. I relished in watching him come undone because of me. I loved how he quivered my name and how it broke off his tongue as he came down from his high.

I wanted in on his high but I was equally as sated to watch him. He has the most beautiful and dazed expression on his face just after he climaxes, and it's something I can get to see. It's mine.

My jaw began to give way slightly, my lips were unable to maintain the O I had perfected in order to mould around him. My hips and back started to give out that dull ache from my fixed position, feeling corrupt from hunching over him for what could have ended up as an eternity. Christian realised this; he knew it was time to involve me. After he stilled for the last time in my mouth his fingers fell under my chin, lifting my head up with his lips whispering his need for me. He begged me to come closer to him, to sit myself atop him and allow myself the pleasure of uniting our bodies with how nature intended it.

_'I need you… I need to be inside you. Now…'_

I crawled my way up his body, shuffling and eventually resting upon his hips with his proud, indefatigable length probing against the inside of my thigh. His hands were quick in tugging the bottom of my t-shirt over my head, desperately telling me that he needed to see me… That he needed to _feel_ me. I sat bare from the waist up, exposed and aroused.

Tossing the shirt to the floor he tugged me toward him as he moved to sit up properly, his back resting flush against the headboard. I groaned as his hands palmed my back, moulding the arch perfectly and gently forcing me to press into his waiting mouth. I screamed out as he took my nipple between his teeth, pinching it playfully. He was rough with them. It was painful, but a pain I loved and felt elsewhere in my body. He grazed my sensitive tip before turning to suckle fervently. Christian's other hand nestled on my hip, rocking me back and forth over him. I knew why he was doing this – the friction of his length against my sex, ribbing me through my panties, egged a throaty moan from my chest.

Before I could even think anything other than the obvious thought present in my mind I was beneath him.

Christian rolled his hips into mine, swaying from side to side to widen the gap between my thighs to make room for him to prop himself there. He continued to painstakingly stroke his impressive self against my panties, teasing me. I was begging for him, pleading with him to hurry up and join us.

"Good things come to those who wait…" He teased, lowering himself over me to press his tongue to the base of my throat.

_God, I need to come..._

I whimpered as he trailed it over my chest, his hands moving around my figure to cup my newly ample curves – all courtesy of our precious gift growing inside my swell.

His eyes were alight with fervour and hunger.

He was all over me as if he didn't know where to start, ripping into a rush with his need to please and excite.

Christian arched back for a moment, leaving my skin and taking a deep inhalation. He cleared his mind before stroking the elastic of my panties with his fingers, rimming them before pushing underneath and edging lower with every hesitant and needy breath expelling from my chest.

He found me. He found that spot which hadn't stopped pulsating since I took him in my mouth. He massaged me for a few cries before yanking my underwear from my body, but thankfully leaving them whole and usable this time. Although, I have no idea where they went after he threw them across the room. My eyes were trained solely on his hips and that delectable V leading to his pelvis.

Christian pushed his hands underneath me, lifting my hips to an angle he needed. I waited for him to push himself to me but he didn't. He raised the whole of my bottom half from the bed with one hand generously cupping the small of my spine. I plummeted my feet into the bed for support, towering my weight into my upper back to not rely solely on his support. He swiftly grabbed a pillow or two from beside him, shoving them under me and preventing my hips from falling. I lay with my apex pointed heavenly.

Christian lowered himself, resting the flat of his forearms against my body and lying as close to me as possible. He gently and slowly sculpted his lips to mine, kissing me with nothing but love and commitment.

"Are you ready baby?" He whispered against my mouth, licking my lower lip with his tongue and expressively rolling his hips into mine once more.

I nodded, unable to stammer the breath to speak or make a noise, and he tipped himself into me. I gasped as he poured himself in slowly, allowing me to accommodate him before sliding in all the way.

"I could spend… All night… Every night…" He breathed heavily between his thrusts. "Inside you."

"Christian –" I fought out his name, arching my neck back with the sound tearing through my throat carnally.

"Tell me baby… Tell me."

"I'm…"

"Say it… Baby, tell me." He probed me, pushing higher.

"You… I'm y-yours."

"Louder." He growled, pounding into me. He pushed up onto his hands to tower over me, staring down with his eyes glaring with that intense arousal I love and feed off. "Say it louder. I need to hear you."

"YOURS!"

I screamed at him, my words ear-splitting as I met them with my release, climaxing violently around him. It tore through me, shuddering a deathly spasm up through my core and wiping my mind of anything – including the ability to breathe.

I found my first release quickly and my others followed just as swiftly, all lining up and rolling into each other with greater intensity.

Except for jostled movements around the bed, and an all too brief switch of position, this is how we remained for hours. Time was completely and utterly wasted on us. I palmed my hands into his back to prevent him from slipping away. I didn't want to feel that sadness that always washes over when he removes himself from me, no matter how quickly he could turn to hold me and quash them. I needed his hands and his warmth. I needed him like I need the oxygen to breathe and sustain life. I've always needed him but now more than ever that level of need is stronger, more prevalent and uncontrollable.

I spent two days away from him and I might as well have died. I was desolate to the world and lost, as if Christian was my sense of gravity keeping me to the ground – without him I was wailing around without purpose or heart. I know that decision to leave was mine solely and is one I regret deeply - more so the aftermath with the hurt we both felt in those painful moments when we were finally brought back together in the sitting room of _our_ Heathman suite. It was then, when I saw his selfless decision to try and accommodate what he thought I wanted, that I realised that I can't live without him. No length of time away from him could possibly eradicate my desires and longing for him. I realised that I would rather deal with the drama that surrounds us, the secrets we've kept from each other and the mercurial mood swings than be alone.

It was back in that hotel room, lying in the bath tub with Christian's arms and leg wrapped around me, that I resolved to never leave his side again and least of all when he needs me the most. He was broken and in need of comforting that night and I offered him abandonment, not strength.

It broke both of our hearts to watch the SUV pull away from our home and to have Christian kneeling on the ground screaming for help.

I'll never allow myself to be that heartless again.

I'll never allow myself to leave him again, not even if he begged me to.

I'll never let him leave my side either.

However, in my unconscious state he has taken it upon himself to slip out of my arms and out of this bed, leaving me to wake from my deep slumber alone.

Sitting up I clench my fingers into the cool sheets around me, coursing my eyes around the room and examining the evidence from our encounter, finding aspects of it all over the place. I shift to the edge of the bed and rise, waiting a breath before moving to allow my legs to regain some structure in their Jell-O like feeling. Ushering gingerly around I am able to take in the full extent of our hurried carelessness.

Pillows, blankets and clothes are scattered all over the floor, just lying in pools and sporadically. But it seems not all items were lucky enough to collet to the floor as I notice Christian's black boxers attached to the dresser at the far end of the room by the top handle, with my panties sinfully draped over the lamp atop it. I flush bright crimson, my cheeks firing up as I scurry over to them, stealing them off and shamefully dropping them to the floor.

I dread to think of the 'smile' he would have exuberated at the sight of them when he woke, knowing that he would have had to walk by them in order to reach the bathroom.

I scavenge around the room for the t-shirt I was wearing last night, coining various items on the floor with my toes in search of it. I curse as I struggle to find it, knowing that our luggage is still downstairs and I have nothing else here to wrap around myself. Unresolved I take one of the sheets from the bed, wrapping it around my body a few times and tucking the end under my arm. It's wrinkled and baring all kinds of thought but it's the best I have, and I have to make do.

I manage to stammer my way to the bathroom, collecting my wash bag from the dresser as I move. I push the door to a close as I enter, falling backwards against it for a moment as I try to steal myself – unable to rid the childish all-teeth-showing grin from my face.

_Calm…_

I catch sight of myself in the mirror: my cheeks are a crude mixture of hot pink and fire-truck red; my hair is frizzy and splaying off in all manner of directions. I fleet my eyes around myself, everything about me sporting that 'I've been thoroughly well-fucked' look. It's the sex-crumpled sheet and the smirk on my lips that confirm this and shout out that I fucking enjoyed it too!

How is it possible to not enjoy _that_?

Christian is a sex-god. He is the sex-god of all sex-gods. He is _my_ sex-god and no one else can even come close to him.

Christian Trevelyan-Grey is the king of all kinky fuckery and passionate, vanilla love making.

_Calm down! Jeez, you're already knocked up! The last thing we need is for you to collapse in an orgasm induced coma! _

I shake her voice from my mind, along with the thought of Christian wearing a crown on top of his head, sitting on the couch in the playroom with me kneeling in front of him 'catering' to his every need.

I tried my upmost to tackle my hair but I gave up after several attempts of raking my comb through the mess. Instead I allowed it to roam free around my shoulders, taking to freshening up a little before heading off in the hunt of my king.

As I met the lower floor, after awkwardly trying to walk downstairs with the sheet covering my feet, I hear a clatter and a series of progressively crude curse words splitting the otherwise tranquil scene. Subconsciously I cling to my sheet, holding it tightly against me as I edge gingerly toward the epicentre of the commotion. A dozen thoughts ran through my mind, the first wondering whether Christian will spring up from behind me and confirm that someone else is here, but after hearing his infamous 'fuck' I breathe out a sign of relief.

_It's him._

I move on through the living room calmly, making my way through the archway that opens onto the kitchen and slamming to a halt through shock and partial amusement. I stifle back the laugh burgeoning in my throat at the sight of my king fleeting around and angrily cursing everything. He shouts to himself, throwing something metal into the sink before slamming his fists onto the counter, gripping the edges with his fingers and his knuckles noticeably turning white. He hunches over the counter, breathing hard and fast.

Not wishing to startle him I glance around the kitchen, trying to piece together what has riled him into his anger. I notice several open containers dotted all around the room, an array of spillages frequently pooled on the countertops with a strong odour of charcoal lingering in my nose.

The floor and Christian are caked in what looks like flour. His jeans are almost completely drenched in the white powder, handprints all over the dark blue denim wash.

"Fuck." He murmurs again, pushing his hands off the edge and standing up straight. His hands move abruptly to the back of his neck, cupping and tugging his head down.

Slowly he begins to turn to face the archway, probably needing to walk away from this bomb sight for a minute before he really blows his load.

He stills as he notices me standing there, staring at him. His sour face morphs into a heavier expression, full of sombre. I try to read him, shaking my head and stepping into his chest, meeting his front with less than three miniature strides. I flop my arms around him, my hands falling absently to the ridge just above his behind. I lightly press my lips to his, having to stem up onto my toes to reach him before cushioning his pectoral with my ear.

"My Ana." Christian mumbles after a period of silence, his arms encasing me and hugging me dearly to him. "The light that guides me through the dark."

I lift my face from him, looking up into his sad and clouded eyes. "Baby what's wrong?" I worry, pressing my hands into him.

"Nothing." He huffs, ending with a clipped slam but my investigative eyes force him to spill the beans. "Apart from the fact that at twenty-eight years of fucking age I can't even make my own goddamned wife breakfast."

His lips crush my forehead, as if that contact was enough to save him, before his chin rests on my crown.

"I wanted to make you breakfast and bring it to you in bed. I tried to make pancakes with bacon, just like you do but I couldn't even get that right."

I glance around him and catch eye of the stack of spoiled frying pans and bowls dotted everywhere.

"It took me eight fucking attempts at the mix, and that was with a fucking recipe. I found a mix in the cabinet and used that, and then I fucking burnt it. I couldn't even get the fucking bacon right!"

"Christian… Baby, stop beating yourself up! Thank you for attempting to do this for me, but baby you could have just got me some cereal or toast." I struggle to silence the giggle rising from the pit of my stomach.

"What, something that not even I can possibly fuck up?" He mouths without any sarcasm or humour.

"I love that you've done this for me but you're not used to the kitchen." I lie. Christian isn't used to cooking, period. "I'm sure if we were at home you'd be okay."

_Sure, at home you have Gail to do it!_

"You're a terribly liar but thank you anyway." He relaxes, kissing my forehead wetly.

"Maybe we should stick to the whole 'Ana does the cooking' thing?"

"Seems like a good idea, doesn't it?" He sighs. His fingers scoop my chin up to point directly to him; his lips slam into mine and start their tango. I shiver and feel myself falling into the tingling.

"You look very virginal in just that sheet." He whispers to me. I spasm into him.

"Hmmm…" I moan, the way his tongue rolled over his lower lip tipping me into oblivion. "I think the balloon under it sort of proves otherwise."

"Probably." He chuffs at me, pulling me tight against him. "I like you pregnant."

"So you hated me before?"

"Now, now Mrs Grey. That mouth will get you into a lot of trouble if you're not careful." He taps his finger against my nose. "You didn't let me finish. I was going to say I like you pregnant and in the kitchen."

"What about footwear?" I joust playfully, quickly nipping the tip of his finger with my teeth.

"I'm indifferent. But it'd be better if you were naked."

"Could be dangerous. Hot oils… A lot of heat…" I rib my lip between my teeth, trying to tease him. "But if you want me in the kitchen, you can have me in the kitchen."

"Don't tempt me."

"You're all words aren't you?" I wink at him.

"Baby, we both know I'll pop you on that counter in a heartbeat and rectify that thought in your pretty little head, but this kitchen is too small for what I really want to do with you."

I swallow hard.

"So, tell me wench, when you are roaming around the kitchen cooking, what will I be doing? Standing around helpless? Or would you allow me to move a stool to the corner of the room so I won't get in the way?"

"Oh, you can sit if you want to but, Christian, if you have your way we'll have a dozen kids running around our feet. You and those kids won't be anywhere near the kitchen." I warn him, not even contemplating the idea of little people hovering around my feet all day. "Your job will be to occupy them, teach them something or just roll around the floor with them. You'll get the fun part while I'm slaving away trying to feed the five thousand!"

"Well, how can I refuse that?" He finally breaks into a smile, tipping his head to the side as he accepts the proposal. We kiss with the same level of enthusiasm we had last night. "But, maybe twelve children is a little… _ambitious_?"

"Hallelujah!" I praise him, and salute the heavens above. "Finally we're on the same page! You know, it really depends on how this one goes. If this goes downhill then I doubt we'll have any more than one!"

"It does but I want more with you. One child isn't enough."

I agree with him, the pain of being an only child achingly present. I can't inflict that onto any child of mine.

"I was thinking maybe three?"

"_Three_?" Christian reiterates my choice, needling it with his confusion and repetition. "Just three?"

I nod my head slowly to him, growing ever more confused by his reaction. _He can't seriously want more than that?_ Four, maybe I can deal with that but my body will not sustain more! There's only so many times skin can stretch!

"Ana, I said twelve was ambitious but we're definitely not having three children. Baby, I'm aiming for a baseball team here. We'll be pushing it with just ten!"

I shove him with my hand, rolling my eyes with purpose at his roaring laughter. I feel his chest rattle vigorously against mine as he struggles to maintain it, the look on my face just adding to the hilarity of it all. I try to break from him and merge a gap but his hands finger into me harder, stopping me in my tracks. After a few moments he concedes and calms from his fit of chuckling, and tells me that three is the perfect number for him.

"There are three of us in my family. That worked out pretty well. Not so much for Mia though."

"She's the little girl in the family. Mia's gets whatever she wants and she knows it."

"Who knows, we might end up with a Mia one day."

I stare up at him with menacing eyes. I tell him that under no uncertain terms we will not have a Mia on our hands. While I have a unique sort of love and care for my sister-in-law I don't think I could handle her level of eccentricity. Christian caves, telling me that our child will be a merge of the two of us – although, that in itself is a scary thought. Another mercurial wonder on my hands?

"Come on Mrs Grey, let's get something to eat and head back upstairs."

"Do we have any plans for today?" I ask him, wondering what he has scheduled for our trip and more importantly what this mysterious 'thing' is.

"Yes." I nudge him to let me in on the plan. "It involves you, me and that very warm, bouncy bed upstairs."

The left side of his mouth hitches higher than the right, his smirk unleashing itself and toying with me.

"Oh, and you won't be needing this." He fingers the top of the sheet, loosening a gap and pulling it away from my skin. He hunches over and peers down my chest, puckering his lips and mumbling 'mighty, mighty fine' to me.

"So we're wasting the day away in bed?"

"No, not wasting." He retorts. "We will be doing something productive with our time." His expression shifts to a serious, cooler one while shaking his head at me and my foolish thought.

"And that is…"

"Each other."

With a playful growl Christian stoops down, his hands sweeping me off my feet and into his arms. I fall apart at the seams, fidgeting in his hold as I giggle furiously. Christian maintains our closeness and carries me away from the kitchen with ease, carrying me as if I'm weightless when in reality I know I weigh considerably more and my jiggling does not ease the matter.

We reach the foot of the staircase, Christian kicking the luggage out of the way with his foot, leaning into the banister for support.

"Christian, put me down!"

"Oh, I'm sorry Mrs Grey but you're not getting away from me that easily!"

Lowering his head Christian nips at the hem of my sheet, he tugs it down with his teeth to expose my breast. He smiles broadly, licking his lips several times to moisten them before slamming them to the space just above my nipple, blowing out his lips against my skin and tickling me.

"No… Stop!" I roar, the sensation of his lips vibrating against me triggering me into a greater burst of laughter. "Please, stop!"

"Not a chance."

I giggle and plead with him to stop but he continues regardless, almost in spite of it. He only ceased when we reached the edge of the bed, where he plonked me on top and began to un-sheet me.

Freeing me, unwrapping me like his present, he started to trail his way along my body. He began at my knee, pressing suckling kisses along my leg and noticeably bypassing my apex. His lips caressed their way over my bump, his tongue licking along the stretched line stemming from my pelvis up to my sternum.

I bounce under him, parting my legs to allow him to rest as he continues his journey northward. The denim rubs against me with a friction I'm unfamiliar with.

I miss the playroom jeans. I miss how they were always unbuttoned, and that I knew he wouldn't be wearing any boxers. I miss noticing the happy trail of hair and following it down until it disappeared beneath the Levi's.

_I miss the playroom._

"Christian!" I squeal as he reaches my throat, suckling away with just the right amount of pressure to ignite the fire below. "What about breakfast?"

"I'll get you something to eat soon. Didn't your mother tell you never to eat just before strenuous exercise?"

"That's swimming."

"Whatever." He shushes me, forcing his tongue into my mouth and seeking mine instantly. "I have my breakfast right here… You taste so much better than anything I've ever tried."

"I should hope so!"

"Chocolate, vanilla and Ana. Those are my favourite flavours. Just those three."

"Hmmm… Chocolate?"

"I can do a lot with chocolate. Especially melted. Could get messy though."

"Since when has that stopped you?!" I answer him, lifting my head and kissing him passionately. His hands are gripped around my wrists, pinning them down on either side of my head.

"Never."


	65. Chapter 65

**Disclaimer:The characters portrayed in this story are those in E L James's Fifty Shades Trilogy, therefore they remain her property. The plot and themes in this story are those of the author. The author is in no way affiliated with James. All recognisable brands, places or persons are the property of their respected owners and are in no way the property of the author. No copyright infringement intended.**

**I was beyond thrilled that so many of you enjoyed the last update. I love playful Christian as much as you all do and I equally love when they're in that sort of mood! It was a pleasure to write such a lovely sequence and to receive some great feedback.**

**Long delay again. Sorry.**

**Things are a little tough at the moment and I have a lot on my mind which I need to work out, and if I'm frank with you the last thing I've wanted to do was write but I've tried to persevere and churn out something. Again, thanks for your support and patience. I've said it a thousand times but it means a lot.**

**As you will notice the next few updates are adopting a different format. For the time being I'm reverting back to a smaller chapter sequence, but also a 'little and often' approach. The longer chapters are simply not achieveable at the moment for so many reasons, and I just need to blast out small ones for a while. These chapters will be similar in length to the earlier ones and most definitely will not contain much in terms of content, substance or worth, so please bear with me on this. I have a long chapter pre-written which will arrive soon-ish, so all is not lost, but I hope I can still provide you with something readible in the meantime.**

**To NK – Thank you for your power-reading of the chapters thus far. I really loved reading your reviews and I hope to hear from you in the future. I hope that this year is a great one for you too! Thank you! x**

**To MX – Thank you, thank you, thank you! Thank you so much for your support. I love hearing from you! It was so lovely of you to write what you did, and I am super happy that I am able to express what's in my mind well enough for you to see it too. I have my fingers crossed that I'll continue doing this for you. I hope you've had a wonderful holiday too and all the best for 2013! x**

**To Ellie - I know. No amount of apologising or explaining will suffice the delays, but hopefully this method I am adopting for the short term will be enough until I can offer something substantial. It's not fun when I'm not uploading for weeks on end but it's not through choice. I'll constantly trying to produce something but it is a hard to balance everything in order to do this. x**

**Thanks again to you all for your support. It's a great comfort to know that even when times are rough I am still able to produce something worth reading - fingers crossed.**

**As I said ****'little and often'**** – just for the time being until I can get on my feet again and write better. The next mini instalment will follow tomorrow some time. Hopefully I'll have something to update every day for the next week or so, but no guarantees.**

**Much love and happy reading,**

**Chelsea x**

* * *

Time was a concept which surpassed us, and was undoubtedly and irrevocably wasted on us both.

Our mornings were spent dreaming in a tranquil embrace, lullabies negotiating around me from Christian's sweet tune. Our afternoons were filled with laughter and smiles, lounging around our dwelling and just spending some much needed time together with no distractions or interruptions from vying eyes and ears. But by far the most serene and perfect times were our evenings together. Each night we cuddled up on the couches and pigged out of whatever snacks we found in the cabinets - I soon found that Blip has a certain liking for double Chocolate chip cookies after knocking out three packets over the course of two days. When the time came we'd journey back to bed and slip under the covers, wrapping our bodies around each other and falling back into slumber.

Each morning when I woke I asked Christian if we had something planned for the day – anywhere we needed to go or see, maybe some exploring would be on the cards – but each morning I was offered the same response: _'Later. Right now all I need is to be here with you. I need some undivided Ana time.'_

It'd seem ridiculous to travel thousands of miles to just lock ourselves away from the world when we could have just remained at home, but I couldn't argue or frown at him. I couldn't have cared less about our surroundings. Knowing that I had Christian all to myself and that we had the time to repair our fragmented life was more than enough for me. I too needed some undivided Christian time, something I know is invaluable and restricted. I don't know how long it'll be before I can say I have this again, or at least a substantial period of time to boast about.

And so I had three full days locked away in our cottage without a single care or worry. We had two very brief calls on the resident phone in the sitting room, both from the owner to check that everything was okay and that we had everything we needed, but that was it. Security left us in peace on the understanding that Christian would call them if and when we needed them.

We were well and truly alone. Not even so much as a murmur from the wildlife, or even Blip for that matter.

Initially the silences that fell between us in the lull of conversation were awkward and periodic. At home when we had a period of stillness in the natural flows of interaction they'd be quickly filled with something, or someone, desperate for Christian's attention. It didn't matter whether I had lost train of thought or simply taken a pause for air, someone is always there ready to snatch Christian away from me. I made the mistake of pulling away from him too, broadening the distance, but that's gone now. I'm sticking to him like glue. Forever this time.

Even after three days of solitude I was half expecting someone to turn up at the door and peel Christian away to discuss something, but I was pleasantly surprised. I caught myself waiting for something – staring at the door in anticipation, or glimpsing frequently at his cell phone that has sat on the kitchen counter for our trip so far. I spent longer watching over his cell than he did! And Christian noticed too.

"It's not going to ring."

"Jesus!" I shriek and jump to attention, startled as Christian winds himself around me to head toward the refrigerator.

Spinning on my heel and clutching my heart over the top of my sweater I face him, suddenly my cheeks feeling icy and my pulse quickening. I wait for him to face me after chugging a gulp or two from a juice bottle in the fridge; my expression wasn't quite what he was hoping for.

"What?"

"What do you mean 'what'? You almost gave me a coronary!" I chastise him, shooing away his arm as he approaches me thick and fast for an embrace.

"You know Ana, dramatics isn't really your forte." Christian continues to make his bee-line for me, throwing his arm around my back to pull me up and into his chest. I crush into the mount of cotton from his shirt, having to tug my head away to breathe. "I shouldn't have come up behind you but seriously, stop checking the damn phone. No one is going to bother us!"

"How do you know?" I enquire, the sceptic in me rearing an ugly head.

"I gave out very, _very_ specific orders that I am on vacation. Ros is leading GEH in my absence. She's done a perfectly good job before, so I'm not anticipating any calls."

"What if there's an emergency? Family –"

Christian cuts me off. Bringing his hands to either side of my jaw he lifts my face from him, his own falling inches in front of mine and his eyes piercing into me.

"My parents know we are on vacation. Elliot and Kate know. Mia knows. I even took the liberty of calling your mother and Ray to tell them that we were going away. We're not going to be bothered and nothing bad is going to happen in our absence."

His perfectly pristine greys glare down at me; the whites of his eyes sparkling and dazzling to the point where I'm reluctant to shift my gaze. Utterly mesmerised and entranced.

"I'm just…" I stutter. "We've always had someone… Never any time…"

"I know." Dipping his head his lips pet the furrow in my brow. "And that's something I should never have let happen. We need time to ourselves. I think a lot of the time I forget we haven't been together long. I forget we're still learning so much about one another."

"I forget too." I agree with him, knowing that a lot of the time it feels as if we've been married for years, not months. "Sorry. I'll try to not expect things."

"Good."

Bringing his lips to mine I ignite; my legs instantly spasm and start to flummox me, rendering useless. Christian's lips completely seal mine, matching like a pair of mittens, with his tongue filling my mouth and hugging mine in long and seductive licks.

I squeeze my thighs together, partially to regain some support but mainly to quash the pulse quickening in my sex. My hands hang loose around my sides, his arms caging in on me and trapping me against him.

We remain like this for a short while, my head willingly tilting back and Christian's towering over me with command as he takes control of my mouth, and also governing the twitches in the apex of my thighs.

The kitchen really is too small for all of the things Christian wanted to do to me.

* * *

I woke with a subtle whirling in my stomach, followed quickly by a heavy pressure building in the lower part that pushed into my pelvis.

_Oh, fuck._

Pressing my hand to my stomach and trying to keep my legs shut I struggle to wriggle free from the bed, the urge growing wilder and more incessant as I attempt to move.

_Blip, if I pee myself you're in serious trouble!_

I curse my stomach as I make my way toward the bathroom, waddling like a King Emperor penguin. My efforts are made worse through my lack of clothing. I've only worn bed-wear on our first night here. Christian soon made it very clear that once he'd sussed out the heating that I wouldn't be requiring any sort of clothing, his exact words being _'I want unfettered access to what's mine. And I mean all of it.'_

Barely making it to the porcelain I continue to lecture my stomach and the invader inside, making it crystal clear that I can deal with needing to pee every five minutes, but not a chance on Earth can I handle peeing myself! I have limits and that is one hell of a fat one!

Finishing up, and realising that each time I pee seems to take longer than the previous time, I freshen up - sprinkling water on my face and pulling my hair out of the way and tucking it behind my ears. I struggle to look down; it's still a lot to take in sometimes, noticing the changes is hard but Christian's enthusiasm works wonders in quashing any doubts about the way I'm looking. He tells me frequently and sincerely that he likes the more of me look. It's almost enough for me to believe him.

Slipping back into the bedroom I try to keep quiet. It's still fairly dark outside, even though it's just turned seven, and my sleeping beauty is still in a fixed slumber.

I shuffle silently toward the bed, lifting the comforter slowly and tenderly from the sheets to claim my spot once again.

Looking at him lying quietly and still I figure that he hasn't stirred in my absence, something I'm grateful for. In the past when we've argued or gone through a rougher period his nightmares have returned. Our most recent argument was only a week or so ago, but the fact he hasn't had a night terror creep up on him – or at least one that I know of – settles my mind ever so slightly. I hate waking up to his screams and thrashing around. To some degree it does scare me to watch him move around so violently, but at the same time I worry that he's reliving some vivid and crushing memory.

I think on some level I worry more that I'm the cause and, or, the memory.

I squeeze in beside him, shifting to my side to face him square on and more so to watch him. I like watching Christian sleep, mainly because I rarely get the chance to. I lie as close to him as I can, squiggling up to his face and propping my head between his pillow and mine.

_So sweet…_

Christian's lying awkwardly with his face pointing in my direction but his body flat against the bed, the sheets plummeting to lie just at the top of his happy trail. Or rather _my_ happy trail. I tug my end up toward my face, covering my mouth to hold back the noisy smiles I'll produce while taking him in in all of his glory.

Even in the dark I can make out his beauty and the delicate lashes fanning out on his cheek.

He always looks so peaceful in sleep – so young and trouble-free. If people could see CEO Christian Grey and this man lying beside me, they would hand-on-heart swear it was a different man. I like that I have this with him. I like that I get something that no one else has. No sub has ever shared a bed with him, and I'm pretty sure bitch troll never did – Christian to this second swears it was never that sort of thing, and to a degree I can't imagine her being the kiss and cuddle sort of woman.

_Woman? Are you kidding me? That is not a woman. That is pure fucking evil!_ My subconscious chimes, taking aim at an imaginary dartboard with Elena's mug-shot fixed to the centre.

I hold back my howling at the image of her eyes being gauged out with very, _very_ sharp needles.

I still as Christian fidgets, shuffling his hips as he creeps nearer to my side. He settles instantly, barely fleeting from his deep sleep.

I relax as his breathing regulates and deepens in his chest and his lips resolving back into my favourite pout. Whenever he's truly asleep he pouts. His lips curl up slightly and form a sweet little mound that is too irresistible to kiss. I tear my eyes from his mouth, lessening the risk of waking him up that way, moving toward his copper locks splaying out artfully on the pillow. I smile taking in the directions it's lying in, particularly at the flyaway taking up residence on his forehead. Before I register it I tousle it from his head, scooping the lock gently in my fingers and pushing it away from his face.

_My angel…_

I feather my fingertips down his temple, tracing his sculptured cheekbones and his jaw until I find his pout where my fingers press to the centre gently. As if in reaction his lips adjust to my fingers, caressing them before I pulled them away.

I drew my hand back toward my side, and no soon as I pulled it to my space he jousted and groaned heavily. Christian stirred more actively this time, tossing his head from side to side and whining at me, cursing me for waking him. I heard the laughter tripping from his tongue before he got to the point where he couldn't hold it in. His shooing of me away, ignorance and distaste were short-lived.

_No Christian, dramatics isn't your forte either!_

I push my elbow into the bed, propping my cheek up with my hand and my other residing on my hip. I stare at him with one eyebrow raised, waiting for his feigned tantrum to subside. Christian falls still, his head relaxing and rolling to face me. His eyes remain shut, his nearest flickering open into a squint as he checks me – his smirk intensifying and swelling into a huge all teeth showing grin.

"Finished?" I quiz him, narrowing my eyes and staring intently as he stretches across to switch on his lamp.

"You woke me up. I was having a very, very nice dream." His voice twitches groggily.

"Sorry."

"In fact, it was an extremely sexy, riveting and intense dream." Christian hums as he rolls back to his side, edging nearer to my solid frame.

"Care to tell me about it?" I ask him, "then again, if it's some horny dream about having an orgy I'd rather you didn't tell me." I chuff, giggling expressively to signal my sarcasm.

"The only orgies I'm interested in are ones that involve you… Hmmm, a dozen Anastasia's? Now, that's a party."

"You really think you could keep up? I think you'd need to invest in the Viagra stocks."

"Oh… Dearest Mrs Grey, I am not in want or need of enhancements. I perform fully and to a perfectly suitable standard. However, if you need reminding I might be willing to demonstrate."

His eyes flash open and shoot darts at me, fleeting salaciously from my eyes to my lips, to my breasts suddenly growing heavier and alert, and lastly flickering expectantly south toward his target destination.

My heart pounds warily in my chest. I swear if it beats any louder it could pop from my ribs and shatter in two!

He pushes closer, climbing up onto all fours and crawling predatorily toward me. His back and form shimmer saffron as he closes in, the light from the bedside lamp wielding out a soft amber hue around his frame. His face hides lusciously in the shadows, just his eyes guiding any reception until he meets me. His hands slip through my arms, rubbing against my sensitive and ever aching skin. I find myself accommodating him, falling back against the bed and under his cage.

Christian's hands sit on either side of my head, his elbows bending at the crook to lower his face to mine to peer menacingly at me. I squirm visibly under his glare, feeling his length prodding shamelessly against my stomach. He strokes me with himself several times, reiterating his point and making himself perfectly clear without need of words.

"Is it all coming back to you now?" He mocks me, grazing his teeth along my jaw. "Or do I need to show you?"

"Prove it." I flaunt back. "Show me." I brazenly taunt him, splitting my legs and bringing my ankles to the curve of his buttocks, yanking his body down toward me.

"Baby, you really don't know what you're letting yourself in for…"


	66. Chapter 66

**Disclaimer:The characters portrayed in this story are those in E L James's Fifty Shades Trilogy, therefore they remain her property. The plot and themes in this story are those of the author. The author is in no way affiliated with James. All recognisable brands, places or persons are the property of their respected owners and are in no way the property of the author. No copyright infringement intended.**

**Another 'smallie' for you! I hope you like it! A bit LEMONY ;)**

**Really looking forward to hearing your thoughts, as always! Sorry if there's errors - feeling very tired at the minute!**

**Ellie - Thank you! It does mean a lot, especially when I'm having a low ebb in writing! Chapter 8 was also a favourite of mine... Yes, I think office sex certainly is up there in the places they've got a little raunchy! Besides the car and the restaurant dining room! I'm looking forward to hearing your thoughts on future chapters! Thanks again x**

**LA - Thank you so much for your support and words of encouragement. Things are slowly getting to where they should be and the writing is coming back, awkwardly but I can deal with that. I'm really glad that you like what I'm doing and take the time to read and comment on chapters - so very thankful to everyone who does this! I really do respect your opinion! Thank you x**

**NK - I'm so glad you liked the chapter! Thank you for taking the time to come back! Kudos to you! Yes, they were very, very sweet - and after all the drama it's lovely to write them like that! Thank you again! :) x**

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**Thanks again to you all, you're all stars to me!**

**Much love and happy reading!**

**Chelsea x**

* * *

"That's it. Yes, Ana. Baby, you're there…" Christian grunts, thrusting his hips into mine and stroking his length through me leisurely.

Reaching up behind me I grab the edge of the mattress, digging my nails into the sheets as I feel the intensity build up inside me. It starts as a pulse beating incessantly, but quickly I feel the first penetrating spasm rip through me, growing at my apex and spreading like fire through my core.

Christian dips his body down as his lunges deepen, his stomach resting cautiously on the swell of mine with his chest hunched down to level his face to my neck. I arch my spine into him feeling the climax shatter through me, my body trembling and my mind shutting down completely because of the explosion inside.

"Yes. Fuck, yes."

"Christian…" I moan, collapsing back into the bed and struggling to catch my breath.

"Oh, baby… Fuck. Fuck. Fuck."

His efforts excel, tripling in speed and impetus as he tips the hilt of his release. My spasms meet each of his pushes, splintering my insides as his length swells. He grows wider and more possessive; my walls clench down around him, waiting anxiously to feel him still and shudder while he pours himself into me.

I whine, my stomach shuddering and swirling. My chest goes heavy, tingling with sensitivity.

I feel weightless, but grounded. Christian's head plummets to my collarbone, his moistened lips trembling along my skin. He hums praise, licking up the scale of my shoulder and neck through panted breaths.

"Fuck, that's it!"

I feel him screw up his face against my chest, heaving and climaxing violently into me. He deepens, drilling higher before collapsing and summiting into a roar from deep within his ribcage.

"Ana… God, my Ana…"

Christian removes himself from me immediately, sinking into the spot beside me instead of remaining on top and threatening to crush little Blip. I whimper as he pulls out, feeling achingly sensitive and alert; marginally sore.

I flop my legs down, lying flat on the bed with my ankles dangling over the sides. Pushing my hands to my hair I swipe away some of the build-up tittering on my brow, my scalp also feeling dewy.

The room fills with the panting and come downs from our joint climax; neither of us able to quite catch our breaths. Christian huffs loudly, pushing out a large blow of air through his pursed lips. Feeling some strength return to my centre I merge to my side, folding around Christian's glistening torso and flinging my leg through his – parting them to slide mine into the gap.

"You're amazing." He mouths, bringing his fingers to the back of my head. "Absolutely fucking amazing."

"I didn't do anything." I confirm, nuzzling against his pectoral and falling silent as I ride out the last few sensations cutting into my sex.

"You do so much… I don't think you realise just what you do."

I hold back my chortle, deciding it's better to see this as a moot point. Also, I don't think I can form a fully-fledged sentence just yet – every inch of my body feels numb and lifeless.

We lie comatose for a while – well, a long while!

We remain speechless, just a few garbled mutterings between us until the room fills with light and we find the ability to move once more.

Christian's fingers caress my scalp, whirling through my tresses and clinging my head to his chest. My arm is sprawled over his tightened waist, unmoving and lax.

"I think you're right."

I lift my head lightly to look up at him, my brows knitting together in confusion.

"Huh?"

"About the Viagra thing -" A laugh trickles from his mouth. He pulls his spare arm to hide under his head, propping his face up so he can stare down at me more accessibly. "Well, maybe not that specifically but definitely something. I'm struggling to keep up with you!"

"What?!" Exasperated I bolt upright, digging my elbow into the bed and using his chest as leverage to examine his face for signs of hilarity. "Christian, don't be ridiculous! If anything I'm the one who needs something to keep up with you!"

"Baby, you're insatiable at the moment. You're up for it all the time." His fingers trickle from my head down my back. It tickles and sends shivers down my spine. "It's great, I love it."

"I'm sure it is."

"I don't know what has caused it… If it's because we've not had the greatest time lately, or if its pregnancy hormones... whatever the reason is it can fucking stay around."

"It is… _different_ now." I rib my lower lip through my teeth, Christian's finger soon releasing it and tugging on my lip lightly.

"It's incredible. Making love to you now is phenomenal. It's just… _exquisite_."

I quiz him with my eyes, watching him as he falls back to lie flat against the bed. A sigh escapes him: a euphoric sigh.

"So, sex before was sub-standard?" I tease him, poking him in the side. I wink when he shoots his greys to mine, ready to back track. He smiles.

"Sex with you has always been amazing. Your body is very responsive now, and so sensitive. Baby, I only have to look at you and you start writhing."

"It's always been like that." I correct him. "You've always had that level of control over me." Lowering myself I curl back around him, lifting my head higher to bring our lips together. "Just now I can't keep my hands off of you. I had a very brief level of restraint before. Now, all of that is out of the window."

I tongue his lips, slipping mine into his mouth and searching eagerly for his. I started passionately, with a tinge of sweetness and loving, but I couldn't hold off the fire still burning its embers within me. I sealed my mouth over his, pushing off the bed and shifting to straddle him: sitting atop his hips and eagerly teasing by rolling mine against him.

"You're the irresistible one." I mouth into his lips, my breath hitching higher as I wriggle on top of him. "I can't keep my hands off you." I repeat myself, the latter higher and full of impending heaven.

His hands grip my hips, holding me still. He sits up and brings our chests close, his fingers tracing up to my back.

"It better stay that way too." He orders me with power wrecking through his speech.

"Always." I pant. "There'll never be anyone else."

I smack my mouth to his, taking him and forcing my tongue inside. Feeding off his groans I start to move again, shifting and riding his hips, preparing to lift up and position myself. My fingers tug at the hair at the nape of his neck, tilting his head back slightly.

"Ana."

Christian pulls his face from mine, his fingers pushing harder into my hips to halt me from swirling further. I screw up my face, egging him on.

"I love it when you top, but –"

"But… What?" I huff, hunching my back in disappointment knowing that his 'but' means 'we're not doing this'.

"But, our gremlin needs feeding first."

I filter my eyes down to my protruding stomach, placing one hand at the peak.

"Blip's hungry. I know he is." He answers me and my query.

"I don't feel hungry."

"No, but you will be soon and a hungry Ana is a pissed off Ana... No one wants that."

Reluctantly I agree and shuffle off him, planting myself back on the bed and up against the headboard. With a sweeping kiss on my forehead Christian stammers off downstairs, magnificently nude and in full morning glory.

_I guess that's proof you're not going to be disturbed._

My subconscious hums from the corner of the room, both hands fixed over her eyes in shame. I shoot her down instantly. Christian oozes confidence where his body is concerned but then again, he has nothing to be ashamed of. He can walk around in his primitive form and know that every woman is drooling over him, some men as well I'm sure, and every man is green with envy looking at his pristine shape.

I admire his confidence but I am green with envy too.

As I sit and wait I strum my fingers on the bed, unable to sit still and be patient because I know that if I head on downstairs to join him I'll be on the receiving end of a Christian Grey lecture.

I shuffle on my behind and check out the room, trying to see if there's anything I can do in the meantime but there's nothing.

Twisting almost 360 I turn my attention to the window behind the bed and the shut drapes. Kneeling up to the window ledge, set marginally higher than the top of the iron headboard, I grapple the wooden pane and lift myself to get as close as I can to the glass. Pulling back the heavy cream drapes I unleash the mid-morning English sun into the room, stinging my eyes in the process. I wait until they adjust and strengthen to stare out into the abyss.

I've spent a while checking the views from all of the windows of the cottage, often finding myself picking up on the less significant details that obscure the surroundings because, to be honest, we're in the middle of nowhere.

Pretty much all of the views are the same, bar those from the main bathroom and the kitchen which overlook the back of the property and the smaller guesthouse security are staying in. All of them offer the same green landscapes, fogged with the occasional Oak tree or fence. But this window is different. It's by far the smallest of them all, but I can lose myself in this view.

Grabbing a t-shirt from nearby I clean up the glass – taking off some of the condensation and heat built up from having the window permanently closed. Clearing up a large portion of the bottom pane of glass I toss the shirt away and slump my elbows onto the wood, my head plonking on top so I can enjoy the scene.

From up here I can see so much more than anywhere else. For miles in most directions is just farmland, mainly an emerald green and closed off from the dirt lane peeking out through the break in the overhanging trees to the left. In the very distance, beyond the greenery and the tarnished and weather beaten trees that haven't kept their leaves, I can see hills: faded, blurring pebble shaped hills barely visible to the eye unless you look intently, or if you know they're there already.

With the sky so clean and crisp today I can make them out better than I have before, all three or four of them shining in front of the lemon fresh rays beaming down over every section of anything on the ground. She doesn't miss any of them out. She's accommodating, moving around to encompass everything in sight at some point during the day. She sees everything and doesn't judge. She just sits there, proudly watching and protecting every particle as if they're her children.

The life-giver.

The mother.

Losing myself I ponder, wondering what it must feel like to sit upon those hills watching the world tick by. To just sit there watching the sun pivot on its axis and be replaced with the moon at the closing of day.

I wonder if the air feels cooler there, the grass greener or the sight any more splendid.

I start to imagine standing near the edge, a pair of strong arms knitted around my waist and a slightly rough jaw perched on my shoulder – maybe a pair of soft lips singing deftly into my ear.

I'd stand there fixed to the ground, only my feet and Christian holding me in place. The elements would remain peaceful, bar the wind thrashing around and toying with my hair constantly. Christian would grow annoyed with having to tuck it behind my ear every few seconds so he'd keep his fingers there, holding it in place. The sun would collapse into the horizon, birds swinging through the air and humming their anonymous melody to one another as they migrate toward their safe haven. We'd stay there until the night came and the moon joined out escapades. We'd sit down on the grass and huddle into one another, only turning away when the chill becomes too much or we grow too weary.

The stars would watch over us and smile knowing that everything is okay, and that everything is back to its regular order.

_Serenity…_

I'm torn from the window hearing a series of swift footsteps pounding through the house.

"Okay, I have a very delicious breakfast for the very delectable, beautiful Mrs Anastasia Grey, and the equally beautiful gremlin living in her stomach."

Christian clambers to the top stair opening into the bedroom, a large tray full of food and drink in his hands and a wide smile piercing across his face.

I swivel back to my seat, pulling away from the window and my peculiar reveries.

Moving to the free space beside me Christian sets down the tray, planting himself down on the bed and dragging a sheet around us before pulling the food nearer.

"Why are you calling Blip 'gremlin'?" I query him, tossing my head to the side in perplexity.

"Did you ever see the film?"

"Of course, but what has they got to do with it?"

"They're crazy for food, especially during the night. Plus, they're pretty cute." He smirks, leaning across to brush his lips against mine. "That description fits Blip to a tee."

"What about the part where they go psycho-crazy when they eat after twelve?"

"That's yet to be founded. We'll have to wait until Blip's here to resolve that query."

Christian smirks and takes off a bowl from the tray, placing it in front of me along with a carton of yoghurt.

"Granola… Oh, and bagels?" My smile broadens as I examine the various items in front of me.

"I brought up a selection of everything… Bagels, fruit, toast… Tea, water, juice –"

"You came prepared." I exclaim, tossing a chunk of strawberry into my mouth from the bowl he's extending to me.

"Baby, I always come prepared."

I turn away from his face, suddenly feeling my cheeks glow a startling shade of tomato. I tuck into the variety of foods, sampling a little of everything and quickly turning conversation toward different avenues.

"Christian?"

"Yes?"

"Can we go out today?" I ask sheepishly for some reason, quickly blurting out an explanation to suffice him. "I mean, it's not that this isn't perfect enough because this is like a dream… I just wondered if we could go out and explore. You know, get some fresh air and –"

Christian cuts me off, lifting his fingers to my lips to silence me and my tripping-off-the-tongue rambles. I gulp hard waiting to read the expression on his face, settling slightly when he softens and breaks into a smile – albeit a small one.

"Baby, you don't have to ask permission to do something. You never have to ask. If you want to go out, then we'll go out. I should have realised you would want to explore sooner rather than later. I'm sorry."

"No. I didn't it like that." I reach for his hand, cupping my fingers around his tightly. "I was just wondering when we were going to check out the place. I knew we'd head out at some point, I just didn't know when you planned to."

"I had thought about heading out tomorrow, but today's fine. We'll go out after breakfast."

He slips his hand from underneath mine and makes a beeline for his breakfast, a similar selection to my own. I find myself wolfing mine down, partly keeping up with him but also in excitement of exploring – the vision of the hilltop possibly becoming a reality.

Finishing in record time I place my things back onto the tray, chugging around the rest of my glass of Orange juice before sitting back and waiting for Christian to catch up.

"Hey, maybe we can go and see that thing you were telling me about? The thing you brought me here to see." I probe him gently, recollections of our landing here and the red balloon bouncing around on his BlackBerry screen.

"I didn't tell you anything." He mutters, accepting the last spoonful of his meal. "It's a surprise."

"Can we go see it today?"

"No." He slams me down, topping my bowl with his and rising from the bed gracefully.

I huff, shuffling from the bed in my less than elegant way. "Am I ever going to see this thing? Or at least know what it is?"

"Of course, but it's already been arranged as to when we'll go and check it out. We've been given a day and a time, so that's when we'll go. End of the matter."

"No, you've been given a day and time. I know nothing." I move to my feet, standing opposite him. "Are you going to at least give me a five minute warning before hand?"

"I'm a little more generous than that. Ana, what do you take me for?"

Christian eyes me, a look of disgrace oozing over his face. I shuffle on my feet, chewing at the inside of my cheek.

"Ana, I'd give you at least a twenty minute heads up!"

"You are such an ass!"

Picking up the nearest thing to me I throw it at him, narrowly missing his head with the cushion I found at my feet. He dodges it perfectly, continuing on out of the bedroom with a deep, roaring laugh coursing and echoing through the cottage.

* * *

Wriggling under the mountain of fabric I tut once again, refusing the latest item Christian's holding out to me.

"Christian, I have enough on already!" I holler at him, gesturing expressively up and down my body at the multitude of layers I'm already wearing. "Can you honestly say I really need to wear all of this?"

I was already pretty much dressed by the time Christian came back upstairs. I had already pulled on my underwear, jeans and a long sleeved t-shirt, but apparently that wasn't enough. He came charging over to me and ripped through my suitcase, tugging out a thick cashmere sweater, an over-sized woollen trench coat, and a long cream coloured scarf with matching beret and mittens. He refused to move until I had all of it on.

"Yes. You do." He adjusts the scarf around my neck, tucking the ends into the coat already bursting at the seams – and for once it's not because of my stomach! "You'll freeze if you don't."

"I doubt it. It's not even that chilly out there. If anything, it's slightly warmer here than it was when we got off the plane in London!"

Glaring down at me with his penetrating greys I screw up my nose to him, knowing it's a pointless battle… I'm not going to win this one.

"If we get out there and it's warmer than I anticipated then you can drop a few items." Christian caves, placing his fingers on either side of my face and holding me to him. "I'll gladly carry all of this for you, if you're too warm, but for the meantime can you meet me halfway?"

I nod my head enthusiastically, noting that no less than ten minutes after we leave the house I'll be pleading the fifth and banishing the coat and hat.

"Jeez, that was easy."

Taken aback from my cooperation his brows shoot up, a pleasant smile spreading across his lips.

"Don't get used to it." I correct him. "It won't last forever."

"Somehow I didn't think it'd be a permanent fixture."

He pulls away and turns to the sweater laid out on the bed for him; having already dressed me like his own little Barbie doll he's free to continue dressing himself, adding to the jeans and t-shirt shockingly similar to my own.

"But would you really want me any other way?" I sing sweetly, flopping myself onto the edge of the bed next to him, smirking broadly. "Well, expect maybe tied up to that big, sturdy bed in the playroom?"

I wink at him but the playfulness isn't returned.

Tugging the cream sweater over his head an expression of utter concentration hovers over him. He joins me on the bed, hunching forward to slip into his pair of converse matching my own. To fill the gap I start mutter to myself, the silence awkward.

"You know, we haven't been to Escala for a while now… Since before we moved… Our last night there must have been the last time we were in the playroom." I pinpoint it, remembering the music and the lack of packing we got done during that last night in the apartment. "We'll have to put it on the to-do list for when we get home!" I laugh.

"Is vanilla boring you?" Christian chuffs, a presence of humour there but nothing strong. He slips off the bed, walking across the room to fetch his jacket from the sideboard.

"No, of course not!" I shriek. "I love vanilla. You know I do, but I also like the _kin-ky_ stuff."

I stare at him as he moves, all the time with his back to me.

"I sort of miss the playroom. I miss playing with you…" I continue filling the air. "It's been quite a while since we did anything like that. God, I'm surprised you haven't dragged me back there before now!"

I let out a giggle, soon silenced by the sheepish glance etched across his face.

Christian's eyes meet mine for a second before jittering away.

We stand opposite one another for a few seconds, both motionless. His fists open and lax at his side, his head bowed slightly.

He's cold and vacant. His eyes signalling despair. Something hiding behind them.

I make to move nearer to him but he steps out first, gliding across the floor toward me but stepping straight on past toward the bathroom. I reach out and clamp hold of his wrist, stopping him in his tracks and forcing him to look at me.

"Christian?"

"Yeah?" He answers me but doesn't glance up to begin with. I rib his wrist until he looks over.

"Is everything okay?" I stutter, unsure of what answer might follow.

"Absolutely. I just need to use the bathroom and then we'll leave."

He tries to move but I'm stuck fast. I interrogate his face, checking over every inch but coming up blank.

"Christian, did I say something wrong?" I ask, wondering if I've mentioned something I shouldn't have. The confusion on my face mirroring the intensity of the coldness stuck on his.

"No." Stepping towards me he brushes his lips against my temple, distracting me as his free hand peels my fingers from around his wrist. "Just give me five and we can go."

I make to mumble something but he slips away from my side, stepping into the bathroom and closing the door silently. Leaving me standing there dormant and clueless.


	67. Chapter 67

**Disclaimer:The characters portrayed in this story are those in E L James's Fifty Shades Trilogy, therefore they remain her property. The plot and themes in this story are those of the author. The author is in no way affiliated with James. All recognisable brands, places or persons are the property of their respected owners and are in no way the property of the author. No copyright infringement intended.**

**Hi Guys,**

**A very, mini chapter for you. Not a lot in it in terms of content but this is because I had to upload something, in terms of a chapter, in order to write this A/N - site rules. I need to clear up something after the overwhelming, and shocking reaction I got after the last update. I haven't had the chance to do this so far, so apologies for the wait.**

**First off thanks for your reviews and messages! I have spoken to some of you already but I have to clarify this on a broader scale.**

**I'm going to be blunt:**

**CHRISTIAN HAS NOT CHEATED ON ANA!**

**Not shouty capitals! Just making sure I have your attention! :)**

**This is not a cheating storyline. I can honestly say that I didn't even think that anyone would assume this might be the case! Call me naive or silly for this, but I guess I'm wrapped up in my reasons behind this to have thought about this other flipside. Sorry guys! I didn't want to lead you on!**

**I won't say what is the reason because obviously that'd ruin the story! But I can assure you that no story I write will be an Ana/Christian cheating story!**

**I know that many stories on this site are currently exploring this idea, and kudos to those writers! I have a great respect for everyone and mean no offense by this, but in my opinion Christian isn't that sort of character. He might be Fifty Shades but I don't see that in his characterisation. I'm working off what we know already about him and as far as I'm aware (please tell me if I'm wrong) he was monogamous throughout his 'relationships' with subs. I'm adhering to this factor because I'm trying to slot my story in line with E L James's writing style as best I can, and I would hope that this isn't a theme she'd explore with our favourite couple! Again, no offense! I'm a great lover of all fiction, even though I'm not reading FF... I avoid other writers works out of respect because I'd hate to accidentally pick up on your ideas and work them into my story!**

**Yeah, so no cheating story but all will be revealed soon!**

**Guest No.1 - Thank you for your comments. I'm always shocked that I have this effect to provoke such a reaction! Your review certainly amazed me! I do understand your points, not so much the latter though. x**

**MX - Thank you! Glad you're still loving it! I think we're all hoping it gets resolved soon and it will, I promise! Maybe not immediately but definitley before they leave for Seattle! x**

**Ellie - I love reading comments! I love that you take the time out of your day to read my scribbles and then offer a comment to me. I know some people choose not to comment, but I am as appreciative of readers altogether as I am for reviews I may receive. Thanks! I didn't feel the descriptions were my best so to know you liked them is great! :) x**

**Guest No.2 - There will always be more! At least until I label a chapter as 'The Last One' - but we're a way away from that! x**

**Guest No.3 - Thank you and welcome! I'm glad you're enjoying it! I hope you continue to enjoy it and! Thanks for your comments! I hope to hear from you again! x**

**Thanks again guys. Again, very short but more in the works! I'll have something to post soon, during the week most definitely! Sorry for the lack of goodness below, but I'll have better stuff soon! :)**

**Much Love and Happy Reading,**

**Chelsea x**

* * *

I waited impatiently for Christian to come back out of the bathroom.

He said he would only be five minutes, and he probably was much less in reality but, to me, it lasted an eternity.

I just stood fixed to the floor for a few seconds, in utter shock and confusion. A dozen fucked up thoughts twirled around my mind in the space of a minute, all perplexing with one another and illegible. I just couldn't figure what I said that was _so_ wrong. I rubbed my fingers against my temple, trying to soothe the pulse beating heavy there. I swear my brain will explode sooner or later!

Running through the last ninety seconds in my mind I think over what was said, desperately clawing at anything to scramble together a sort of resolution as to what set off this, the latest ticking time bomb in my life. Again, my mind stalled and fell short at the final hurdle.

"What the fuck did I say?" I wrack my brains, pacing the floor frustratingly. I tap the sides of my head several times, the pulsing growing a bit strong for my liking or culpability.

I listen out for him, anticipating his exit and the possible meltdown that might ensue. I drift toward the bed, finding my head too much to handle along with my thoughts. I perch myself on the edge, gripping hold of the sides to steady myself as I lean as far forward as I can, dispelling some of the ill feeling.

I hear the faucet running profusely behind the closed door, shut off seconds later and then a period of stillness. I hang my head low in my lap, nausea creeping up to my throat, the bile burning my pipe with a metallic aftertaste. I clutch the side of my head, wishing and praying for it to wash over me and leave, quickly.

The squeak of the doorknob turning rings hard in my ears. I lift my head slowly, hearing nothing after the catch returned to its resting place. I weakly lift my eyes, staring up his long figure through blurriness. I've felt this sickness before, much to my hatred. I thought I was over this. I thought I'd be one of the lucky ones you got over it once they hit twelve weeks, but it might be making an unwelcome return.

"Are you okay?" Christian cuts sharply, his words full of anxiety and concern.

I nod my head, worrying about the projectile vomit threatening to expel across the room. I wait for it to pass, taking a few long breaths, before answering him gingerly.

"Yeah… I'm okay." I bluff unconvincingly.

I peel my fingers away from my face and the edge of the bed, pushing off the mattress to stand. It's a large effort, especially for my walrus weight, and he notices.

Christian moves quickly to my front, his hands cupping me from under my arms and steadying me on my toes. His palms linger as he visibly checks me over, assessing my stability and state.

"Are you feeling unwell?" He doesn't hover around the topic, and I know not to mess around when his voice is this astute. I know that as soon as CEO Mr Grey takes over I need to be cooperating, understanding and concise. Something I have previously revolted against, but right now I lack the energy or want to do so.

"I'm fine." I offer with a stammer. "I have a bit of a headache." I continue, dropping my eyes from his intense greys. The whites of his eyes are what trigger it – the brilliantness that sets off the either dismal or passionate grey of his iris. No one can withstand his glares - not even the coldhearted likes of Elena bitch-troll from a monkey whore Lincoln!

"Do you feel sick? Nauseous?" His hand plants on my forehead, the back checking my temperature with a panic. "You don't feel too hot."

"No, I'm fine. Really, I'm okay."

I try to comfort him, my mind more concerned on what happened before and not the illness taking over me. I tear my fingers from the hem of my jacket, lifting away from a fleck of thread that caught my wondering attention, to rest upon his arm. I manage to make the briefest of contact before he tugged away.

Taking a short step back from me Christian darts his eyes around the room, his fingers running through his hair and pushing it back from his face. I act as before, moving a pace toward him and again he mirrors. My mouth falls open and he dashes around me, walking off in direction of the stairs, calling back a rambled hush of words.

"I'll get you something for it."

I spin on my heel to watch him arrow rapidly down the staircase. He moves fast, too fast for me at least. By the time I've reached the top stair he's already near the bottom. I grab the banister hard in my hand, descending slowly with a degree of care. I'm forced to walk sideways now, no longer able to see my feet. My stomach protrudes and adds to the struggle, but the mammoth amount of clothing tops it off perfectly. Not simply do I feel like a whale, I look like one too! The only worthwhile reason being my guppy swimming away inside. My little merman... Or maid.

After awkwardly clambering to the bottom I move to keep up with his electric motions. Peering around the staircase I catch a glimpse of him powering off into the kitchen, gliding along the floor seamlessly. I shuffle behind, making my way toward the arch dividing us but stand rigid, unable to traipse in after him. A swift series of knocks and sliding's seep through to me, Christian quickly making his appearance once again.

He meets my side in two steps, lifting my hand from my side with his left and slotting a bottle of water straight from the fridge into my grip, folding my fingers around it to hold it on my own.

"Here." He tugs into his jeans pocket, pulling out a strip of pills and popping two into his palm. He extends them out to me. "Take two of these. It should help."

I accept them, glaring down at them in my hold. I hesitate for a second, pondering.

"What are they?" I enquire. "I mean, are they safe for me to take? Can Blip –"

"Ana, of course, they're just acetaminophen." He snaps out, almost too quickly for his brain to realise. His face drops almost instantly, apologetically. "Ana, I wouldn't give you anything that was safe. I wouldn't fuck around with your safety or wellbeing. You should know that by now."

"I just wanted to know." I retort in my own weak, sorrow filled voice.

_God, please don't be angry at me!_ I beg him with my eyes.

"We'll take it easy today. If you want to stay here we can."

"No, I want to go out. I'm sure these will kick in soon enough."

I smile at Christian, pausing for a second before tossing the pills into the back of my throat, chugging down a few gulps of the water to force them from my mouth. I take a few extra sips, the coolness refreshing and helping to settle the sickness. I guess if my sickness has returned I'll need to give that 'How to aid morning sickness' guide a once over again.

I chew on my lower lip, unsure of what to say, but Christian takes control and marks the first motion to anything productive. He tells me he's heading out to fetch security and that he'll come and fetch me when they're ready to leave, and the car is waiting to go. He almost bolted out of the door but came to a stop just outside, on the porch. He turned toward me with a knowing glance, asking – or rather telling – me not to go walkabouts. I saluted him mockingly but it didn't have the desired effect on either of us.

I followed him outside, adhering to his 'no walkabouts' clause but needing the air. I merge out into the fresh, crisp air and inhale sharply, feeling it burn my lungs and throat on its way down into the pit of my core.

I watch Christian as he trails off around the side of the cottage, off to the smaller building behind.

You wouldn't even know it existed unless you had taken the decision to venture off around the side of the cottage, or you were staying inside and could see the dwelling from the back windows.

Even to this second I struggle to imagine how four grown men might live harmoniously inside something so small! I mean, it's no bigger than a summer house!

Our security are staying in a place that doesn't hold the same finesse that ours does, or the same degree of splendour. Theirs is expelled all on one level, made of conventional and sterile brickwork of reds and browns - a strong and dark roof topping it absently. From the upstairs bathroom you can just about see the small hobbit hole, but if you're in the kitchen you can vision it more reliably. I stood at the sink just the day before admiring it through the lace voil, letting my mind drift and ponder about such dilemma's of who might be staying where and what the arrangments may be. I conclude after a little while that it couldn't hold more than just one impeccably small bedroom, and that some of them would have to sleep on couches or the floor. Unless it's much bigger on the inside than the out? But, I can't visualise that.

My eyes creep to the gravel flicking under Christian's feet as he disappears out of sight. It concourses from his glide as he powers on through, within sight for a second and gone permanently the next. I trail my eyes around the paths marked out in several sets of footprints, some of them leading straight up to our door. There's a lot more than there should have been, a thought worrying. I allow my thoughts to work through it, settling with a whallop on the side of the head from my memory of what Christian told me on our second night.

I was sat in the sitting room, or lying down rather. I was sprawled out the red couch, the one that faces the door directly. My stomach was feeling hard and crampy after just downing a considerable dinner and dessert. I was alone and pleasantly comfortably, a cushion propped up under me by Christian's hands before he sort to clearing up after us. He made it a rule that if I cook then he has to clean - telling me it's the most democratic way and it saves a lot of tiresome debates. I didn't argue with him in the slightest!

While he cleared away our mess and made a considerable noise I lay there, staring up at the black and white ceiling above me when I saw something in the corner of my eye. A flickering glow caught my attention: a white beam shining around outside the window, sparking out a code like sequence and sway. I bolted upright with my heart in my throat. I panicked unnecessarily but I didn't know what was happening at the time. I called out for Christian and in knight like fashion he came running, meeting me instantly and concerned about Blip. I was unable to speak out properly, instead just pointing at the window and breathing something about a 'someone' lurking. He made his way swiftly to the window, pulling back the curtain and investigating it for himself. I was sat frozen waiting and imagining him barging out through the glass and tackling whomever was trespassing.

After a small chuckle to himself which he tried to hide as best he could, but failed miserably, he went on to explain and comfort me that it was just Reynolds. I couldn't say that his explanation settled my mind, but it in turn sparked a new wave of curiosity. I needed a further, in depth analysis which he offered voluntarily. Christian told me that it's in all of their contracts - one's they had to sign before coming out here - that they are to each rotate in the role of doing an hourly walk around of the cottage during the night. I sat openmouthed, a tinge of relief seeping out. He continued, sitting down next to me, telling me that it's just a precaution to help ease this for us - for me. He said that he knew I would 'fret' over such things, and this was one way of eradicating that factor.

I couldn't agree nor disagree with him. I mean, every emotion in my body in heightened... Some more than others apparently!

With Christian now completely from sight I begin a more thorough inspection of my surroundings, realising that this is the first time I will have seen the glory of my environment in daylight.

My eyes flicker over the long, sloping driveway perching down onto the dirt-trodden lane that leads toward the equally unknown. I take in the lawn area set off to the side, something I hadn't noticed upon our darkened arrival. It slopes all with the hill, leading right up to me. It extends right to the door on the right side, only the concrete porch and a slight gravelled section separating me from it. The grass is a cold, emerald green. It's a shade markedly familiar but I'm unable to place it. I can feel it's similarity in my head but I can't say where I've remembered it from. A strange feeling hovers in my stomach, unsettling me. I can say it's not a feeling I'd welcome in a hurry! It haunts my core and being, whirling around with danger and intrigue until I took the effort of shrugging it off and dispelling it into the breeze.

_Move on from it._

I push myself to other things, hesitating just a second longer on the lawn and it's dewy, clean and undisturbed state. Pretty much everything out here is overgrown, the grass maybe a foot of wilderness swelling up into the appropriately placed hedges. Some weeds peek out through the mass but they're insignificant. Even the bushes surrounding us completely are vaguely un-kept - twigs sticking out randomly and in no formed sense of order.

It doesn't promote the idea of being neglected but inside that it's a conscious decision to let nature take over and care. It's a nod to the wilderness, not humanity and our intervention.

The skies are bare, just a few clouds blanketing overhead but nothing that would spark concern about a potential rainfall. Not that it would anyway! I love the smell of the rain as it hits the ground - even more so as it swelters over greenery. I love the dew it sparks and the tripling memories it prompts. Everyone has at least one fond memory of rainfall.

Beside the few white clouds the rest of the sky is a fine crystal blue. A frosty blue perfectly matching of the frost bitten leaves of the towering life supports arcing around the cottage, and of the small potted plants beside my feet on the porch.

Two terracotta bowl-like pots sit side by side at my foot, each with a small, bare-branched Rose bush inside. The buds are non-existent, left only to the delights of the spring and summer love, but its structure remains resilient and strong. I'm torn back to my Mom's backyard in Georgia and her Rose bush that continues to grow and live beautifully. Thankfully, though, she didn't plant it herself - there is no doubt in my mind that it wouldn't have lasted as long as it has if she did! But each year it blooms is a delightful angelic white. Just the one Rose flowers each year, but it's enough to evoke love and a unique bond with nature in suburban terrain. Whenever you walk by it the smell hits you. It's not a strong or overpowering smell, just very sweet and cherished. It's not something you can pass up lightly.

I ponder what colours these precious, but dormant blooms may offer. Maybe another angelic white or an early morning yellow matching the brightness and power of the sun? Maybe even a newborn baby rosé or a deep, dark and ardent red?

_The red would be pretty._ I murmur to myself under my breath. _That'd certainly bring back a lot of treasured memories._

I try not to dwell on that thought, especially not after the reaction it provoked upstairs!

I hear movement off to the side of me, the sounds of Christian and another moving briskly and sternly back into vision. I compose myself, looking over briefly as he returns to me. Harper appears just a pace or two behind him, unlocking the car with his clicker and motioning to open the back up to us.

I stare back at the cottage, glaring up for a quick look at the two levels and the creeping green ivy clinging sardonically to the cobbled brickwork. It extends more broadly around the front, heavy wooden stokes at the base. I entrust that it surrounds more than just the front of the cottage, that it'd need to cover at least one other wall. The dark green blocks out much of the uniqeness of the bricks that sit in differing shapes and sizes - even colour. It does look a little odd at first, but it grows on you.

Reaching out with my hand I pull the door to a close by the knocker, leaving it for Christian to lock up as he's the only one with a key. I haven't made a fuss over it, not with my track record connected to keys. Not simply do I 'steal' them, but apparently I lose them too!

He comes up to my side, his arm extending around my figure to slip the key into the lock to secure the door. I remain exactly where I am, forcing him to jut around me to achieve this but his body doesn't make contact. I fix my eyes to the small wooden plaque nailed to the wall at our right. On it, in a golden scrawl, is 'Primrose Cottage'. The initials waver and curl excessively, the wood weather beaten and scratched.

"Are you sure that you're okay to head out today?"

I jolt my head to him, looking up at him with the same level of distance his voice offered me.

"Yes. I'm fine. I told you, it's just a little headache." I try to assure him, moving out of his way and moving over to the car.

I slide into the back on the left side, buckling my own seatbelt as I settle into my seat. I pull the door to a close behind me, shutting me off from the growing breeze starking through the air. Nestling into my seat I push my cool hand underneath my jacket and various other layers, bringing it flat against teh stretched skin of my swell. I noticed yesterday a few marks appearing around my navel and lower section of my abdomen. They're deep red in colour, bruised in appearance. Only a few have took up residency. I examined them intently for a while, just stroking them again and again. I don't know why I started to fantasise about them but I did, and the thoughts weren't pleasant. But, in usual fashion I felt his hands spread out under mine, his fingers now following the same rhythmic trailed of the disjointed lines.

I didn't want him touching them, cringing at first and jerking my stomach at the feel of him touching them and knowing that they're there. He was persistent and I grew to accept it. I felt his tongue dart out from his lips and find the lobe of my ear, his words of reassurance flickering their way into me. He held me against him, our bonded and nude bodies connected in a different way. He just cradled me until I folded into him, this momentary worry disappearing as I started to believe him.

_I'm not bothered by them, Ana..._

_You're carrying my child... Our child..._

_They're an extension of your beauty, your love and benevolence..._

_I love them as I love you... Dearly... Honestly... Wholly..._

_Where's that Christian today?_ I ask myself, searching for him and finding him at the other door, slipping into the car.

As soon as he settled in his looked over to me, his hand extending to monitor the security of my seatbelt before taking to his own.

He didn't move to sit next me like he had done before, instead leaning back into his seat with his elbow propped up on the window, his chin resting in his palm.

Harper and Reynolds join us in our car, the others following behind in the other grey Audi. No radio or GPS clinched the silence.


	68. Chapter 68

**Disclaimer: The majority of the characters that are portrayed in this story are those that pertain to the Fifty Shades trilogy by E L James. These characters remain her sole property respectively. The plots and themes explored in this story are those of the author, infamouschelsea. The author is in no way affiliated with James and/or the publishing corporation which produced the original works. Any recognisable brands, places or persons used in the story are the sole property of their respected owners and are not the property of the author. No copyright infringement is intended.**

**Hi guys!**

**Another chapter for you. I actually finished this yesterday (Saturday 9th) but as most of you will know already the site was down! Boo! But, on the bright side, at least the delay wasn't my fault this time! :P**

**Thanks again for your support. It means so much! I'm forever grateful and thrilled that at least one person enjoys what I do, let alone so many who return to read the next instalment! No amount of thanks will ever be enough!**

**LA - Thanks again! Your words never fail to bring a smile to my face. Thank you for your always honest view and support! I'm so glad that you're enjoying it! We aim to please, or at least that's my aim! x**

**D - Thank you! We're all hoping he does... This vacation is going to be a real marker for them! ;) x**

**Guest 1 - I can't remember life before Grey either, and nor would I want to! That man and this story has changed a lot in my mind - especially what profession I'd like to enter into upon finishing my degree. x**

**Guest 2 - I hope this chapter might clear it up a little for you? Or maybe not? After all, nothing is ever as it seems! ;) x**

**MX - Thank you! I have so much gratitude and appreciation for you! Everything is okay with me, and I hope you're okay too? x**

**To my Myranda and Laura and Jasmine Garden - I owe a lot to you guys. You keep me sane and help me out loads when times are rough! I really hold all of you dear to me! I know that when I'm ready to quit you're there to support and advise me! Thank you! :) xxx**

**Much Love and Happy Reading... I hope you like it. I'm trying! :) **

**Chelsea x**

* * *

"Ana, for the love of God slow the fuck down!"

Christian kicks up his pace, pounding from two steps behind to slamming to a stop in front of me. He's kept a reasonable distance so far, close enough to reach out to me if he needs to but far enough to maintain the tension persisting.

My eyes have been glued to the pathway directing the way around the hill as I tried to navigate around the rocks and gravel. The ground is so uneven, the sharper rocks pressing into my converse and hurting my arches even more than they already are from walking this crazy ascent. I've tried to keep up the pace despite Christian's huffs – his way of telling me to slow down without actually talking to me, because apparently that's too much for him!

I step back a little as I'm stopped in my tracks. I lift my eyes to him sharply, deterring my gaze almost immediately after and attempting to move around him and continue walking past. He lifts his hands out, palms facing me sternly to stop me. I breathe in heavily with frustration as he mimics my movements, putting a full stop to me just walking on by.

"Ana, just slow down!"

Christian pushes forward an inch; I stand fixed where I am, my head turned off to the side facing the ever growing mountainous cliff. His hands almost reach my chest, pulling back before contact. I bring my arms around myself, wrapping them round my front and shielding me. I'm quieter still, his tone dropping to a calmer and more collected reason.

"You don't need to go charging off. You're going to hurt yourself."

"I'm fine." I retort back immediately, sounding like a crazed teenager being harassed by their parents.

I can feel his eyes boring a hole into the side of my head.

_You ignored me for the whole car ride._ I curse him in my mind. _A whole fucking hour and not even one word! That, on top of the freaked out business in the bedroom, I really am just fine!_

"Ana, you might be fine now but you're going to pay for this later."

I flash my eyes to him. I know he's probably right but I'm not giving him the satisfaction. If he can't even open up to me, then why should I bother? My subconscious nods her head firmly from behind Christian, mocking him and sticking her tongue out.

"It's like you're running away from me."

_Oh crap_…

I try to soften my face, dropping my eyes to the fold of my arms. _Oh_…

Christian shifts on his feet, pushing his hands into his jeans pockets. "Ana, you don't need to run off. Please, just slow down and take a look at the views. That's why we're here."

Raising my eyes I look at him, his shoulders hunching forward slightly with his jacket zipped straight up to his throat. The wind is ruffling his copper hair, the light catching and bouncing off sweetly when the sun finally peeks through the clouds overhead. He sighs fairly loudly, rocking on his heel a little and twisting his body to look around him.

_Not very grown up of you, Ana! _

I scowl deeply at her, watching as she sets up camp on one of the boulders nearby. I begin to feel a wave of guilt wash over me, crashing full bang into my face with a slap of stupidity.

I force my eyes to a close, squinting hard to blacken everything out. I try to concentrate on my breaths, sucking in a sharp cold blast of air and exhaling it slowly in a long drawn out blow. I let my mind clear slightly, allowing the frustration pent up from earlier filter out. The wind bleating around us like a whirlpool helps matters, as if it's almost taking it away from me.

I needed the break. As much as it pains me to admit he's right, I really will be paying for this – my extreme, pompous routine – later tonight. I'm feeling it already in my legs. My calves are tight and perplexed. I mean, I can't even remember the last time I bothered to work out. I just know that tonight I'll be kept awake for all the wrong reasons; it won't be mine and Christian's late night work out of our own preference keeping me alert, but rather the aches and pains from trying to hitchhike up a freakin' cliff as if I'm not currently four and a half months pregnant!

The sounds of the water way beneath and the wind whooshing around help to clear my mind, aiding to block out the less than peaceful shuffling of pebbles under our feet from being unable to stand still properly. I silently thank him for his incessant requirement for extra clothing. I didn't quite anticipate we'd be climbing a mountain! The air is a ton colder at this height, the breeze icy and making matters difficult.

Christian falls back into silence when I finally opened my eyes for a brief moment. He continued to face away from me, gazing out into the distance without seemingly focusing on anything in particular. I closed my eyes again.

In the car ride here I kept just as quiet as him. I sat on my side of the car and he sat on the other. I grew tired of the silence so tried to fix my attention to other things, taking notice of the vast and escaping wilderness we passed as Harper moved the car through long and narrow lanes. I began to think all that was here was country lanes, not actual streets and neighbourhoods! We drove along open fields of lavender, just purple rows after purple rows. I fantasised lying down in the middle and just staring up at the sky. Forgetting everything.

Harper and Reynolds spoke briefly to one another, mainly things relating to directions and passing comments on objects outside. On the whole though, the awkwardness was reciprocated around the car. It started in the back seats and radiated to the front. I could see the tension building in their shoulders, growing after each of Christian's purposively quiet grunts.

I moved only when I heard Harper mutter back to us that we were here. I sat up straighter and gave an observant glance all around me, seeing that we were at the bottom of a winding hill like structure, built up from rock face and grass. I peeked out of my window and could see the waters just ahead in the distance, sitting at the bottom of the arched hills. I moved my eyes to the back of Harper's head, managing to catch his eyes in the mirror. He tried to smile but couldn't force himself to endure it – he obviously knows what is expected of him, or at least what Mr Panties-in-a-twist over to the right of me expects!

Christian moved quickly, taking off his seatbelt in a flash. I heard the click of it first, firing into action myself as soon as he began to lean across to take to mine. I pushed my fingers from my lap down to my hip, pressing the button and tugging it back from my chest. He pursed his lips loudly, the sound of it cutting through me like a blade. My eyes dropped to my knees and I waited until he stepped from the car and closed his door before opening my mouth, asking the front seats where we were.

"Kynance Cove, Mrs Grey." Harper offered politely, sounding out his words slower than necessary. I could hear a hint of a scarce accent. "It was Mr Grey's request, ma'am."

I didn't have chance to reply my questioning, Christian meeting my door and opening it out for me. I took a second before accepting his hand. I still felt that electric vibrancy when my fingers, freed from my sweltering mittens, grazed over his and reached into his palm. I cherished that there was still something there that didn't reserve angry or a closed off feeling.

_All is not lost._

Still, I couldn't look him in the eyes so, I took off. I made a start in the direction of what looked like a trail walkers can take to climb the landscape. I knew it wasn't the right choice to make but I pushed past it, focusing on my need to walk. I just needed to walk. I needed to walk away from the situation… _Not him_. I wasn't walking away from him. All I wanted was some space and air to work  
through my thoughts which grew more confused the more I tried to remember what happened. I mean, he just flaked out on me for no reason and when I asked what I said that upset him, I was shot down! I began asking the heavens for help on this one, seeking any advice from someone who can tell me what the hell I did wrong!

I open my eyes once again and distract myself to the views I had ignored previously. I was too determined on working my independence and stubbornness to notice and enjoy what we apparently came to see.

I turn on my heel and shuffle along the route, verging slightly to the left and stepping down onto a grassy threshold which slopes down into nothingness. I graduate my steps, each small and calculated, until I'm left a few feet from the edge – the jagged line opening and the drop visible to the eye.

"Whoa…"

I breathe out fast, pushing all of my weight into my back as I notice the sheer drop. I didn't realise how far we'd walked, or just how much of a climb we'd taken! Even at this position, a relatively safe point from the side, I can see the beginnings of a small beached area under us, some other walkers trailing along the water's edge.

The beach extends around in an arch, more even nearer the end where it meets rock again. Several smaller, but still large, platforms of hills like this one follow around at varying distances and sizes, some with mossy grass clinging to the tops and others bare in a charcoal shade. They continue right out into the water, the crystal clear blue lapping around them and foaming white as they crash against the towers. The waves match and equal the wind thrusting around us up here, the swell continuing to swat my flyaways into my face.

The colour of the water brings a smile to my lips, an image of Ray springing into my thoughts. I rub my hand over my chest thinking about him, wishing and hoping I get to see him soon. I love my Mom, and miss her dearly too, but me and Ray have always shared a closeness since I moved back to him as a teenager, abandoning my Mom and husband number three.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?"

I feel Christian come to my side, his arm brushing against mine. I raise my head to him, biting my lip in wonder and nodding my head tentatively.

"You asked them to bring us here?"

"Not exactly… I only asked Harper to take us somewhere like this. I saw you looking out of the window and I imagined that you were dreaming of being somewhere like this." He replies, his face pointing outward to the water.

"I was." I admit, thanking him under my breath.

I make to say something else but stop myself, pressing my lips together and turning my eyes away. I can see him at my side in the corner of my eye, nothing else. He stays with me for a second, moving away again and pushing back to the gravelly path.

_It's now or never._

I focus myself before building the courage to just come straight out with it. I know one of us needs to approach the elephant sitting to our left, and I know that I'll always be the one who has to start it off!

I keep my eyes straight forward, thinking that without my beady gaze interrogating him as well he'd be more open with me.

"Why did you go all crazy on me?" I ask, hearing the jittering in my voice.

I hear nothing but walking from behind me, pacing even, for a minute. I made sure not to turn and pester him, instead waiting semi-patiently for an answer.

"I didn't."

"You did." I reaffirm, not raising my voice more than an audible whisper. "Christian, you went pale and then walked off into the bathroom."

"I needed a piss, that's all." His voice raises, a tad harsher, angry that I even approached the topic. I half expected the same old 'is that a crime now?' add on that usually follows, but he kept his mouth shut.

"You haven't spoken to me since."

"Ana, just drop it already." Christian huffs.

I struggle to hold off and end up swivelling on my feet. I shift to face him, clasping my uppers arms and securing the bond around me.

My foot gives way under me, collapsing to its side but snapping back into place almost instantly. I curse but manage to steady myself.

"Ana, will you come away from the side!" He snaps. "You're too fucking close!"

I stay put, unmoving in the knowing that I'm okay where I am. _It was just a fucking pebble or something!_

I can see him breathing heavier, the mist clouding as it pushes from his mouth. For the first time I feel the courage to eye him out. I pester him to stop changing the topic, needing an answer from him.

"God, for fucks sake Ana, how the fuck did you expect me to react?" His hands push up through his hair as he steps back. His eyes slammed shut and his shoulders raised.

"React to what?" I squeak. "Christian, tell me what I've done!"

"We're not getting into this, so stop. Just drop it." He tries to slam me down again but I continue.

"No, you drop it. Drop this stupid thing you've got going on!" My voice hitches higher, louder and more insistent. "You're the one who started this!"

"Like fuck did I!"

"Christian, you did! We were in the bedroom, getting ready and everything was okay. We were joking and as soon as I mentioned your playroom you turned all ghost on me."

"God, are we really doing this?!" Christian's voice growls at me, his hands pushing to the back of his head. He turns away again and I feel it boil inside me – the need for him to talk to me taking over in an angry brawl.

"Why won't you talk to me? Christian, tell me why you acted the way you did… Or at least tell me what I said that was so fucking wrong, because I sure as hell haven't got a clue!"

With his back completely to me Christian lets out a loud groan, building up the thoughts and energy to face me.

"Come on Ana, how the fuck would you react if your wife came out and said that you're not satisfying her?" He grumbles, moving a few paces toward me. "Huh? What would you do? How the fuck would you feel?!"

_What?_

I tighten my fingers around my arms, tugging them into the fabric. My mouth falls open, gawping at him in astonishment. I stammer a couple of times, failing to say anything with just my lips bobbing like a goldfish. My eyes match them perfectly.

"I never…" I finally manage to muster something more than a babble, the effort made so much worse by the growing surge of wind thrashing around us and burning our ears. "Christian, I never… I… I didn't say that!"

My mouth runs at rapid pace. Christian remains put, his body solid and sticking out from the scene. His face is still hard with me, fixed and expressionless.

I try to make towards him, shuffling my feet a few inches and unlocking my arms from my chest. I stumble my way over; my shoes scraping up some rock and grass from the cliff edge. He doesn't move away like he has before.

"Christian, please… I didn't say that. You know I wouldn't… I-I wouldn't say something like that to you."

I reach him and slide my fingers down his front. I feel him flex his chest under me, for a second I think he squirmed. He doesn't answer back straight away. He pauses, refusing to settle his eyes on me. When the reply came it was quick and rushed, like he's thinking on his feet.

"It's what you implied."

"I didn't… I didn't mean it…"

His eyes refuse to look down at my emotional blues, preferring to look everywhere else instead of me. I trail off, the lump in my throat starting to beat harder. The water in my eyes is already threatening to seep out and ruin me.

I wrack my mind, rewinding what I've said to work out what I did actually say... Whether I said that.

_I can't remember_…

_I didn't mean it, if I said it that way._

It's all just a blurry mess, like it happened a year ago and not a few hours.

_I can't… He can't think_…

I grow angry with myself, my stomach tightening. I suck in air quicker than I'm letting it go, whimpering as I struggle to keep a lid on everything. I spin on my heel, letting go of him and moving away – back toward the edge. I furiously try to wipe away the few trickles already making their way down my face.

_I couldn't have said that. I would never say anything like that_.

The tears start falling thick and fast, a wash of stickiness collecting on my cheeks. I shake my head rapidly so any times, begging him silently not to think that. It's not something I would say. I would never say it, least for all to him.

"I… Chris… Christian, I…"

I try to turn to him, stretching out with my hands to reach out for his touch. I lift my feet to try and step back up the ledge I dropped down as I stumbled away from him.

My foot lands straight on the rock, the grip of my shoe insufficient to ground me. My leg gives way, slipping from under me and forcing me back to the drop down verge.

I curse as I stumble backward a step, my hands lowering to balance my weight with my feet slipping on the ground. My eyes are too blurry to see what I'm doing or stepping on. I struggle to –

"I told you not to go to the edge!"

Christian barks down my ear as he hauls me into his chest. His hands slam to my ribs, pressing in hard and pulling me up the ledge and into his arms.

"Ana, I told you not to go to the edge!" He mumbles into my ear, his head nuzzling into mine. "Don't do that again." He breathes into me harshly, his heart racing ten to the dozen against my forehead. He orders me over and over again not to do that to him again.

I wrap my arms around his back, crushing myself into him and clinging on for dear life. I feel his fingers claw through my hair, holding my head against him, with his other hand flat on the crook of my spine. I can feel myself shaking into him, feeling weak and exhausted. Christian tries to soothe me, rubbing my back and rocking me gently as he walks me back to a safer area on the path, a world away from the sheer drop into impending hell.

"I'm sorry… so sorry…" I heave, hiccupping with the droplets falling from my eyes. "I… I… Christian –"

"Ana, shhh…" His fingers release me and creep under my chin, cupping my jaw and lifting it from his jacket. He pulls my face up to his, goading me to look at him. "Please, don't cry. Baby, please don't cry."

"I can't…" I whine and his fingers feather over my cheeks, smudging away the tears.

"I don't like seeing you cry. It breaks me to see you like this. Ana, you don't have to apologise. I didn't mean it."

"But you're mad at me… I upset you but I didn't mean it."

"I'm not, I'm really not." He lowers his lips to my forehead, tracing small kisses all over my face in his attempt to calm me. I feel my breathing regulate a little.

"You are… You wouldn't –"

"Ana, I'm not mad at you. I don't know why I said what I did. I shouldn't have." Christian hums to me, holding me close to his body. "I didn't mean what I said to you."

I move away a little, wiping my face with the sleeve of my jacket. I shake my head at him. "You're… you're not mad at me?" I whisper, my brows lifting in confusion.

"No, baby, I'm not. I was stupid to make you think that."

"But, you are… You think I said you're not enough… Not good enough."

"No, I don't think that. I know you wouldn't say that to me, I know you wouldn't Ana." Christian back tracks fervently, trying to white wash me.

"What?" I pull my head back, loosening my arms from his spine and shaking away his hands on my face. "I don't… I don't understand?"

"I didn't mean it. Baby, I know you didn't say that. I just said it… I don't know why. I'm sorry, baby I never wanted you to get upset over it."

"Why?" I ask in a high pitched squeal, my brows knitting together across my face. "I'm not… I mean, you know?"

Christian retracts and straightens his body, his jaw flexing as he grinds his teeth into one another. "Ana, please, just forget I said anything. I didn't mean it. I just said it because -"

"Because that's not the reason why you're upset... and you don't want to tell me the truth." I finish his sentence, closing my eyes on him and taking an age to open them again, almost laughing at myself for being so gullible.

I know I've hit a nerve, his eye lids crunching down over his greys and his lips turning white in a hard line across his mouth.

"You're hiding something from me." I tell him quietly, nodding my head in response when his reply doesn't come. "Christian, something I said has clearly upset you. Just tell me what it is."

"Ana, stop it."

"Please, just –"

"Ana, stop trying to find something wrong!" Christian flashes his eyes open, his arms splaying out in exasperation. "I've apologised for being a complete jackass and making you cry, and I'm sorry I've been a little off but really, there's nothing wrong."

"I know you Christian." I retort immediately. "I know something is wrong with you."

"If you know me so well, then you know to stop obsessing over this." His tongue is sharp as he snaps at me. I stumble back feeling winded and his face drops, softening in response to my reaction.

I twirl my fingers in front of my stomach, picking at one of the pockets to my jacket.

We're both still for a second, neither of us looking at one another. I toy with my bottom lip between my teeth, hesitating.

I shuffle over to him silently, folding myself around him and pressing my ear into his chest. My fingers knit together in the small of his back, my stomach hugging his perfectly. Christian doesn't respond to me – squirming away or accepting me. His arms both lax at his sides and his body full of anguish. I rub my head against him, kissing his chest lightly before resting my cheek against him once more.

"I know something's wrong." I start off slowly, continuing without allowing him the time to interrupt. "I do know you, and I know that I shouldn't test you. But, even if you tell me a hundred times that there's nothing wrong, I won't believe you."

I feel him hardened against me but I continue anyway.

"Call it intuition or hormones or whatever, but I know there's something wrong. My Christian doesn't just flake out on me like that, unless there's a reason. He wouldn't try and make out I did something wrong unless he's hiding something from me. Unless he's deflecting from the truth."

His chest loosens a little, his hands lifting and scaling my back. I feel his chin plant on top of my head and a large exhalation of air blow down onto my scalp. This is his reply.

"Christian, I'm going to trust you."

"What?"

Lifting my head from him I feel his fingers creep into my hair, his palm starting to cup my neck to hold me in place. I examine his eyes, his sorrowful greys shining down at me with remorse.

"I'm going to trust you... Trust you to open up to me when you're ready." I explain, my heart completely relaxed and calm. "I want you to talk to me, but I know you won't. We've been here before and I've tried to force you to tell me and look where it got us -" I flinch thinking about those blue sheet of paper.

_Dissolution of Marriage..._

"I don't want that. Christian, I don't want that."

"I'm sorry. Baby, I'm so sorry." His face lowers, his lips pressing hard to mine and trying to kiss me. "I'm sorry… I just –"

"It's okay… Christian, promise me you'll talk to me. Tell me you'll talk to me, it doesn't have to be now or later today, or next week, just eventually… Promise me. Please? We can't do this again... I can't lose you..."

Christian sighs into my mouth, his hands securing my face to his. He nods his head and cements his reply.

* * *

**P.S! Kynance Cove is a real place. It's beautiful - you should check it out if you have the time! :) Thanks for reading! More coming soon x**


	69. Chapter 69

**Disclaimer: The majority of the characters that are portrayed in this story are those that pertain to the Fifty Shades trilogy by E L James. These characters remain her sole property respectively. The plots and themes explored in this story are those of the author, infamouschelsea. The author is in no way affiliated with James and/or the publishing corporation which produced the original works. Any recognisable brands, places or persons used in the story are the sole property of their respected owners and are not the property of the author. No copyright infringement is intended.**

**Guest - It is a shame that you feel the way to do towards the last chapter. I'm sure that there are hundreds of brilliant stories on here that you may enjoy and not find aspects embarrassing, but nonetheless thank you for reading!**

**Twinnings - Firstly, I definitely approve of the choice of pseudonym! I really am glad that you are enjoying the story and are looking forward to more. x**

**MX - Yes, that was fairly typical of him and the reveal is coming soon. I am changing my plans of what I'm going to include in the upcoming chapters in order to get it out to you ASAP. It is such a lovely place and I really do recommend it to anyone. x**

**Thank you for taking the time to read and submit reviews, and to those who understood where I was going with the last chapter. I'm trying to get the reveal out to you as soon as I can. I am not at my best right now but I hope it doesn't affect the quality too much**

**My aim is to submit two chapters tonight! Fingers crossed.**

**Much Love,**

**Chelsea x**

* * *

"Are you ready to order yet my dears?"

I look up from the plastic coated menu in my hands and stare straight across the table to Christian, his sat untouched in front of him.

He's sat coolly in his seat, almost off to the side, with an arm draped lazily against the back of his chair and the other resting flat on the table. His left hand is moulded to his coffee cup, his index finger circling the rim mindlessly and his wedding band clinking against the china.

He's pretty much sat this way since we took to the small wooden table in the top corner of the room, next to a small four-paned window looking out to the water just a few yards away.

I arc my brows at him, shaking my head a little to try to grab his gaze and evoke a reaction. I doubt whether he's even looked at the list and chosen something to order in the time that I've taken to scower the menu multiple times. I've glanced over it and changed my mind often, pursing my lips and humming to myself as I tried to find something both Blip and I wanted. I could easily devour most of the things here, Blip not so much – he's finicky like his father.

Christian snaps out of whatever trance he's in and glances up to the server, hunching forward in his seat and picking the first thing off the menu.

"I'll take the Cajun chicken salad." He murmurs to her, handing the menu back into her taxed and accepting hand. "And can I get a sparkling water to accompany it, please?"

"Course you can darlin'."

She quickly scrambles down his selection; the same broad smile that graced her lips as she welcomed us into the diner stretched high and wide across her face.

She's an older woman - several years older than Grace if I was to make a guess, judging from her speckled grey hair. Her face is soft and warmly, small lines carved out artfully across her skin showing years of life. When we arrived she greeted us passionately, offering any table we liked. Christian naturally chose the most suitable – the one that was sat the furthest away from everyone else, only two tables of equal size situated close by. He gestured for our detail to occupy those, the four of them flanking us and securing our privacy.

"And what would the lovely young lady like today?" She beats down to me, her smile unfaltering and voice bouncy. "Anythin' takin' ya fancy?"

I hesitate and skip over the menu one last time. I chew down on my cheek as I try and pick, settling on Blip's choice and not my own. "Can I have the Ploughman's salad with an extra serving of ciabatta, and a lime water please? Oh, and the Chocolate Fudge cake?"

"Ooh, you like your food! That's such a lovely thing to see." She praises me and I blush, squirming in my seat and hypnotically rubbing my stomach in justification of my gluttony. "Congrats on the little one."

"Thank you." I grin back at her, watching her scribble away my order before taking off down the length of the fairly narrow dining area.

Having momentarily released his cup Christian quickly scoops it up again and brings it to his lips, gulping a chug effortlessly. My cup of tea is already half empty, Blip coercing me into downing most of it as soon as the server brought it over. It seems he's picked up his mother's love for Twinings rather than his fathers need for coffee.

I mirror Christian and relax back in my seat, finishing my drink in peace.

We were caught up on the hilltop for quite a while. Christian didn't want to move, and he didn't want me to move either.

His hands cupped my face hard, squashing me on either side and clinging on for dear life. I could only breathe and accept him, his lips smacking hard against mine and his tongue seeking possession of my mouth. He started off soft and whimpering, licking away gentle and deftly, but he soon progressed into an incessant, needy, toe-curling frenzy. He sucked life from me as if I were the only thing keeping him going, like I'm his life source or something. The level of possession and want was that strong it took my breath away.

I felt winded and plagued with his need, forced into reaching up and tearing his hands from my face, feeling flushed under his abrupt touch.

I clasped my hands around his, intertwining our fingers and locking them shut. I rubbed my thumb over his in that comforting way that seems to work for me. I stroked him and pressed him to lessen the intensity of his kiss, eventually settling him until he collapsed around my frame. He stooped and nestled his face into the side of my neck, his nose inhaling my hair deeply.

Christian held me close and refused to loosen his hold. It was like I was blanket - his comforter to his childish core. It wasn't a case of not wanting to let go, it was that he couldn't.

After sufficiently dazing for a moment or two I took him away from that place. Just something about the way he clung to me terrified me. My urges to force the truth from him grew stronger, but my overdrive kicked in and cancelled her out. I made a commitment to him – to let him come to me when he's ready, and I have to adhere to that. I've pushed him before and it got me nowhere fast. I won't be making the same mistake twice.

I led the way around the rest of the track, almost dragging Christian along with me at times as we began our descent. It took a while for him to return back to a state of almost normality, only once we'd gotten about half way down he started talking more freely and joined me in proper conversation. Though, a part of me thinks he kind of wanted me to shut up with my badgering over what it feels like to have a guppy turning in my tummy.

I felt his fingers slacken between mine and his arm lose all the tension it'd been suppressing. I was glad to finally look back at him and see a hint of a smile, something other than the sadness I'd seen for such a long time. I could feel him over thinking so much, the cogs of his brain rattling around in double time. I needed a way of whitewashing that, so I dug deep into his jacket pocket and pulled out his camera - the one I gave him on our honeymoon and the one I asked him to bring out with us this morning. My intentions were to get him snapping away at the landscape, something we can frame and dot around the house as a reminder of our trip. I did not intend for him taking a million and one pictures of me!

I grumbled at him, the lens consistently pointed my way. I tried to dissuade him, pointing out insignificant things like a leaf on the ground – anything to get him to stop, but nothing worked. I pushed my palm in front of it and stuck my tongue out at him, but instead of giving in and putting it away he pulled me into him once again. He pulled me to stand in front of him, my back to his chest, with both of his arms extended out in front and the camera, this time, trained on the two of us. I closed my eyes and felt his kiss against my cheek as the camera caught the moment.

This picture I was content with, along with the several other snaps he took of us both, but I could only stomach the 'let's just get Ana in the shot' pictures for so long.

At the bottom of the hill, where the slope descended into the beach and onward to a series of small white buildings, I stopped dead where I was and turned on him. I begged him unrelentingly to stop – to put it away for a while and give me a break. He grumbled a little, telling me that he's only doing it for Blip. I bugged him for a more sound explanation, learning that he's been secretly composing a picture book for our baby: photos from the start of our relationship, newspaper clippings about us, wedding and honeymoon snaps – the clean ones, of course! – and pictures that document our pregnancy.

Christian's eyes lit up talking about his side project, telling me that he wants to have dozens of photos of Blip when he's born – for every week of his life if needs be – recounting to me that there are no existing pictures of him as a child until he was four years old.

"She's right."

I'm tugged from my memories, Christian pulling me back to the table. I shake my head casting away the dream, excusing myself.

"The waitress. She's right, it is good to see you eat so healthily."

"I wouldn't call Chocolate Fudge cake a healthy option." I chuff at him, curling my lips into a wayward grin.

"Perhaps not, but it's refreshing all the same. I love watching you eat, even if its pure crap."

"Well, it really does help that I have a husband who doesn't judge me for the crap I order." Stretching across the table I slip my hand over his, "a husband who cares about me and just wants me to be happy."

"The way I have behaved isn't that of a husband who cares about his wife." I feel his hand fist under mine. "I do want you to be happy, but I'm going a fucking backward way of securing that. Ana, the way I have treated you is disgusting. A world away from the way you should be treated."

"Christian –"

"Don't." Christian cuts me off, wavering his hand from under mine. "Don't try and make pathetic excuses for me, excusing the way I've treated you. There are no conceivable excuses that begin to justify the way I've spoken to you."

I catch him just before he pulled free, clinching him and wrapping my fingers around his fist. My knuckles curse white. "Do you think I'm a hundred per cent thrilled with the way I've behaved?" I drop my voice to him.

"If you're talking about the Portland shit again, don't. We've dealt with that. It's done."

"Christian, I'm talking about everything. Portland, Thanksgiving, earlier…" I creep forward in my seat, struggling to support my half pranced position. "We've both done things and acted ways that we're sorry for, so don't blame yourself for what happened up there. I feel just as bad."

"You have no reason to."

"I feel ridiculous for going off the way I did." I sweep away a lock of my hair that's fallen in front of my eyes, brushing my cool fingers against my red-hot cheeks. "I don't know what came over me… I just lost it… It's like something exploded inside me... I just completely lost it."

"I accused you of something that you didn't do. You have every right in the world to act the way you have, so I'm not going to accept any form of apology from you."

I push to intervene, to try and prove him wrong but he's not for turning.

"I made you cry… Ana, I never wanted to make you cry. I'm not excusing my actions but I would never have said anything if I knew that's how you were going to react. I should've realised. I've upset you so many times, more than I can even recount… Ana, baby, I never wanted to hurt you. _Never_."

"I know." I whisper.

"No, you don't. Ana, you don't." He snaps out coldly, quickly switching his hand under mine and catching it in his claw. "I never want to hurt you. I never want to cause you _any_ pain… It's my worst nightmare. I couldn't live myself if I did that to you."

Christian drops my hand, our server arriving with impeccable timing and shutting him off from me again. I examined his face, just a flicker of a smile offered to me. I mimicked his gesture and thanked the waitress for her help. She brushed it off and scurried to the next table, turning to wait on Ryan and Reynolds. I glance to their table top, a mountain of food piling up. I smile and chuckle at the sight, it being a shocking comparison to the frugality of Harper and Travis's table.

We ate our meal in relative silence for the most part; I broke the air with a mention of Blip which did the trick and got him talking again, and brought a smile to his lips.

As long as I had him talking he was okay.

That's the key to him – once you get him talking he'll relax, he'll open up to you. I made it my mission to keep him talking.

* * *

"I didn't realise we'd bought this much stuff."

I shake my head in dismay, scrolling my eyes over the bed and acknowledging everything staring back at me with dollar signs blinking away.

I knew we had visited so many stores, and came away with bags full to the brim with trinkets and souvenirs, but having it all laid out in front of me sort of puts it into perspective. The only positive and settling marker is that the things are fairly cheap – nothing costing more than $30. I lost interest in trying to work out conversion rates, Christian's best left to such things.

Scattered and piled up on the bed are a variety of items we passed and found a need to buy. Well, I say we but in actuality it was just me on this one. I saw little things that caught my eye, and after a few seconds pondering the devil sitting on my shoulder whispered into my ear: _'if you want it, you can have it. If you want the whole fucking store you can have it.'_ Whatever self-control I had was quashed and shoved right to the back of my mind. I felt almost ganged up on, Christian telling me to just get whatever I wanted and Blip making a swirl in my stomach in very firm agreement with his father. I didn't really stand a chance.

Walking through the bustling, but shockingly peaceful town I drew in the salty air and wondered lazily into almost every store open to us. Stores full of handmade trinkets, cute and mostly pointless things that just look nice - rocks from the beaches that have been painted on and can double as a paperweight; tiny glass bottles full of different coloured sands all stocking to the rim with a cork topping it; and odd-shaped glass ornaments that are meant to look like swans, a uniquely shaded pebble crested in the centre. We got several of everything to pass on to family, picking up some delicate shell pendants and earrings for Kate and Mia.

It shocked me how quiet even the town was. Admittedly there were far more vehicles than where we're staying, but still they drove past reasonably and peacefully. As if they didn't want to disturb the landscape or ruin anybody's day. Everywhere you turn you can almost see the ocean, the tranquil blues peeking out from between buildings and forestry.

Everyone we saw and passed smiled at us, welcoming and wishing us a good day. Some kept themselves to themselves, strolling on by in solace to head about their daily activities, but on the whole there wasn't anyone who didn't offer a 'good afternoon' or a high and sincere smile.

I didn't feel like an outsider or as if I was being stalked. I was grateful that our detail stuck to casual clothes, deterring the usual attention that we get having four giants in suits following us around everywhere! We were able to walk along the slight, cobbled streets without someone knocking back a second look, instead assuming that they're just our friends or companions.

Today, they weren't security for CEO multi-billionaire Christian Grey and wife, they were just nobodies - like us.

Looking at the merchandise on our bed I realise that the majority of it is candy: just large glass jars taking up all the room, inside them a variety of different candies and colours - ones that I sampled lovingly at a small 'sweet shop'.

We came across it walking around the beach and pier, approaching it inquisitively as we had with every other place we'd visited. Once we stepped inside my stomach swam and churned in delight, my eyes wide and childlike. It was like Willy Wonka's chocolate factory: amazing and vibrant colours everywhere, different textures and tones. It was impossible to focus on one thing for too long, always something more appealing in the corner of your eye.

The keeper offered us samples of anything that took our fancy, which was plenty! With every groan of appreciation she added a couple of jars to the order, tallying six of the heavenly Cornish Fudge, two of mouth-watering Cherry flavoured chews and a staggering twelve jars of Lemon and Pear drops. I tried them and found a shared love, but accepted them more after hearing that the keeper's daughter swears by them as a means of quashing sickness in pregnancy. She said that she's already a Mom to three boys, now pregnant again, and with each child she's suffered with sickness. I was skeptical about their ability to rid the nausea but I'm willing to take whatever I can! I hate feeling sick.

We found a place next to the candy store that carried wooden signs that you can hang on doors, each with a different message inscribed on it in a beautiful scroll. The thread hanging them carry a tartan bow on the side, holding the Cornish colours according to the store clerk. I picked out one for Blip's room, asking the clerk if it were possible to have a personalised one. He agreed happily once Christian made it clear that price isn't an issue. He wrote elegantly 'Blip's Nursery' on the plaque, adding a few lines that resemble birds to the corner above the glued on shells mimicking the pebbled beaches. I held that sign to my chest, anxious to head home and secure it to the door to the nursery.

Christian helped me pick out gifts for everyone else, settling on a collection of picture frames with seashells stuck all around the wood. I was unsure about them. I mean, it's the type of thing my Mom loves and Ray accepts willingly, but it didn't jump out as something Grace and Carrick would have in their home. It just seemed a little, tacky for them. Christian assured me it would go down a treat, that we could slot in one of the pictures he took of us today and it'd make a wonderful gift for them.

"Are you sure they'll like it?" I call back to Christian again, shouting over the sound of the water filling the tub. "I mean, do you really think they'll want a picture of us?"

"Of course they will." I hear him shout back to me, his voice lowering as he steps back into the bedroom. "Grace and Carrick will love it. Trust me."

"I'm trying to." I smile over to him, placing the frame back onto the bed. "It's a good job we have a big house. We're going to need it with all of this!" I wave my hands over the bed and the pile of cushions on the floor that I couldn't add to the lot. Why I needed ten cushions with the British passport emblem on I don't know. All I know is that I left the store with another three bags for our detail to carry - something they were not too pleased with, but all the same accepted without a moan.

"If we didn't I'd build you another house." Christian extends his arms to me and I stroll over, hugging him dearly. "Do you forgive me?"

"Do you even need me to answer that one?"

I feel his head nod against mine.

"Christian, seriously, stop. If you're able to forgive me for everything I've done, all the pain I've put you through, why do you find it so hard that I'm able to forgive you?" I question him.

"Because I'm undeserving of your forgiveness." His voice is minute and brings a swell of water to my eyes. "Ana, the things I've done... The things I am capable of... You should never forgive me for that. You should never have to."

"Christian..." I slam my head to his chest and squeeze him. "I forgive you. I forgive you because I love you and I trust you."

"I love you too. I love you so much Ana... It hurts how much I love you."

"I'm glad I'm not the only one then, because the way I feel about you is positively unhealthy."

I smile into his t-shirt and I feel him laugh against me, cracking a small joke as his hands rub my spine soothingly with love and admiration. My hands did the same to him, creeping under his shirt and lying my palms flat on his naked back.

I whispered my forgiveness to him over and over, continuing all night until we went to bed. He rested his head on my chest as he slept like a log, his arm draped carefully over my stomach. I ran my fingers through his hair, not disturbing him once. I hugged him to me and allowed the pressures and dramas of today drift out of my mind. If Christian had any chance of moving on from this, I knew I had to be the one who led the way.

He's been strong for me too many times. It's time I repaid the favour.

* * *

**Next chapter will follow soon! x**


	70. Chapter 70

**Disclaimer: The majority of the characters that are portrayed in this story are those that pertain to the Fifty Shades trilogy by E L James. These characters remain her sole property respectively. The plots and themes explored in this story are those of the author, infamouschelsea. The author is in no way affiliated with James and/or the publishing corporation which produced the original works. Any recognisable brands, places or persons used in the story are the sole property of their respected owners and are not the property of the author. No copyright infringement is intended.**

**Happy Valentines Day! A special chapter for you!**

**Thanks for reading the last update and posting comments! :) I hope you like this chapter!**

**Much Love and Happy Reading,**

**Chelsea x**

* * *

"Ana, I'm waiting."

"No!" I shrug out from between Christian's legs, tossing my book to the side and trying to move away from him, and his curious hands, as quick as I can. "I'm not doing it when you're doing _that_. I can't."

I get as far as pulling forward onto all fours before he tugged me back to him, dragging me to sit in front of him again. His left arm is flat long my collarbones, his right hand firm against my stomach. I'm pulled to him until my back is flush with his chest once more, his arms securing me in place. I wriggle and try to move away but he's trapped me.

"Oh no… You're not getting away that easily." Christian laughs, his hand on my stomach starting to tickle me. "Besides, I'm not doing anything. I have no idea what you are talking about."

I beg him to stop tickling me, the laughing I can't control making me need to pee... Badly! I chuff at him and twist my head to the side, calming from my fit and lounging into him. I scowl up at him, both brows lowering around my eyes, and he reciprocates mockingly with a feigned innocence.

"What?! I wasn't doing anything!" He chuckles again, "I'm just sat here rubbing your stomach, listening to you as you read to us… Which, I might add, you're not doing a very good job at."

"How can I when you're…" I gesture down there with my hand, down to where his was.

"What exactly was I doing, Ana?"

Christian teases me, his lips feathering my ear with his crudely warm breaths swirling straight into my core, exciting a carnal shudder. I feel him twitch under me, his length starting to grow and tighten against the restraint of his sweats. I bite down on my lip feeling him involuntarily strengthen, thoughts flashing through me at lightning speed.

"Y-you… You were distracting me!" My voice snaps, squeaking like a mouse. My cheeks start flaring up, a one-way ticket straight to Hot-Pink Street. "I was doing just fine before your hand decided to migrate south for winter!"

"Distracting you, huh?" His voice mocks me, continuing to press his innocence. In protest his hand starts to caress my bump again. "Hmm, I think you'll need to be a little more specific in your explanations here, Mrs Grey. I'm at a very big loss."

"Sure you are…"

Christian's legs lift from the bed, folding around mine and spreading them apart. His ankles capture mine and force my legs to bend high and out like his. I resist him as best I can. I know exactly where this is going.

His fingers sweep down my stomach, ready to resume where he left off earlier. He furthers the gap between my cami and sweats, exposing my skin and the hem of my panties. I protest against him, moaning and bucking my hips, but he's calm and determined. I shudder as his tongue peeps out from his lips, lavishing the length of my neck.

_Oh…_

I feel his fingers down there.

They move firmer and more slowly this time… Agonisingly slow.

Before he was just testing the waters – starting with Blip and an innocent stroking of my bump, but he started to wriggle south. His fingers were gently teasing the hem of my lace panties that were barely visible from under the waistband of my sweat pants. I was unable to continue reading with him doing that to me. I couldn't concentrate so I shuffled away.

Now, he's more insistent - his hand hitting the lace instantly. His thumb and index finger rib the lace and pull it away from me.

"Were you distracted by this?" He breathes into my ear, searing a bolt through me and unleashing pimples all over my body.

"Yes…" I pant grossly, falling absently into his chest. All of my muscles are turning into Jell-O.

His digits stretch out flat under the fabric, skimming down to my apex. They swirl in circles as they go, lightly tantalising and provoking me.

I lift my hips up to his hand, my chest heaving as I pant for breath. I urge him to go further, needing his hands there… Everything aching for him… The pulse almost too much to contain… I'm going to explode…

"God… Christian…"

His tips reach me, pushing down my centre and circling me once… maybe twice… He just starts to massage, coyly sending me over the edge before retreating completely. His hand abruptly pulls out from under my panties, his fingers falling back to my stomach.

I groan in frustration, my nails digging into his thighs. He loosens his hold of my legs too, even his arms slackening.

"I want you to read to me." His arm across my chest pulls away, feathering down my arm with his fingers seeking mine. When he reaches them he locks them together. "I asked you to read to me because I wanted to listen to you… You've proven that you can't multitask so I'm making it easier for you."

"Make it super easy and screw reading!"

I push my behind into his crotch, rubbing suggestively into his length proudly bulging into the small of my back.

"No… I want to hear you. You have a very soft voice when you're reading. I like it."

I huff loudly, reluctantly allowing the pulses to spread with no attention or aid. I reach over and pick up the book again, opening it to a random page and quickly thumbing through them until I hit the one we were stuck on. I know the book like the back of my hand. I love it, and I did study it intensely in college, so you would hope I'd know the layout pretty well!

This book wasn't my choice but I can't dispute his decision. If anything, I love him for it.

I was lounging on the bed waiting for him to come back upstairs with a glass of water for me. We were just lying there, talking, when it began to rise and force its way up my throat. The sickness hit full on like a bullet train. I rolled onto my side in case I needed to vomit, thankfully it burning away and not coming up for a visit. Christian panicked. It's been a while since I've suffered with sickness and it was as if he'd forgotten how to deal with it. He just sat there with me, rubbing my back gently to see me through the worst of it before heading down for some water. When he returned he came back with the glass in one hand and the book in his other.

He placed the refreshing liquid in my hands and settled in next me, suggesting that we could read the book together but smoothly pressing that he would prefer if I read it to him. I accepted after a second hesitation. I sat up and tried to get comfy, prepping to prop some pillows behind me but Christian slipped in first, lounging his legs on either side of mine and his arms wrapped around my front.

I started out uneasy, stuttering and all too quiet. I'm not the best out loud reader, but he was patient with me. I hit my stride by the end of the first page and I was fine.

Even though I knew we'd never be able to see the heavy text through to the end, it didn't matter. We both know this story.

"Earth to Anastasia..." Christian snaps his fingers in front of me. "Blip and I are waiting… We both like hearing you... or at least, I think we do." His voice twitches, his mind wandering into the unknown. For him Blip is still invisible, bar my mushrooming stomach.

I retreat from my thoughts and turn back to the book. I pull the spine back on itself and clear my throat. A light kiss to the top of my head confirms me and sets me on my task.

"The traveller from the coast, who, after plodding northward for a score of miles over calcareous downs and corn-lands, suddenly reaches the verge of one of these escarpments, is surprised and delighted to behold –"

I'm stalled. Faltering and trailing off into a throaty groan, his mouth suckling at my neck with intent. Pushing my behind into the mattress I try to quash the throbbing building up between my thighs, the effort useless.

His lips trickle along my frenzied skin, stopping in their tracks when he realises I've stopped reading. He tuts, heatedly, until I continue.

"Ex… tended like a map beneath him –" I feel his tongue lashing across my bare shoulder, his fingers flicking away the strap of my cami. "A country, differing absolutely from that… from that which he had p-passed through…"

I give in completely, tossing the book from my hands and turning my upper body to face him. His hand cups my jaw and holds me in place, and before I can win a breath his lips are sealed over mine.

I divide my lips, opening the gap ready to let him slide in and thrill me. His delicious tongue lunges into my mouth, stroking the length of it in and out - dancing perfectly with mine.

I feel his erection press into me harder, stronger than before. With a little help I twist and creep up to my knees, coming to a kneel between his parted thighs.

Christian grunts into me, his hands pushing up the back of my shirt – arching me into his chest. My hands find their way to his face. I strum my fingers over the coarse days' worth of stubble along his jaw, another fleshly noise escaping him.

My lips seal over his, refusing to even allow for breathing. It's like I have no control… Needing him… I roll my hands through his hair, tugging on it hard to demand his head back. I take his lower lip between my teeth, pinching him.

"Fuck."

"Hmm, now you're talking." I giggle, pushing my hands to my shirt to lift it over my head.

I manage to lift it as far as my bra, barely exposing the cups, before I heard it too.

My whole body changes, hardening into a rigid stance between his legs as I eye him out. Christian shrugs his shoulders at me and I roll my eyes as he prances from the bed, thrashing off toward the loud ring blaring through the place.

_Please, we've come this far… Please, no work related crap!_ I plead northward, shutting my eyes in silent prayer before I take after him.

I migrate through the house slower than he did, shuffling along and finding him in the kitchen with his back to the arch – his cell phone pressed up to his ear.

_The first call all vacation and it had to arrive just before things started getting interesting_!

In the time it takes for me to reach him he's already shut down the call, setting his BlackBerry back down onto the countertop. His answer was clipped to whoever was calling. I was ready to take him from behind and set my arms around his front, but he turned into me, gliding into my arms and wrapping his own around me.

"Who was that?"

"Harper." I squint my eyes, interrogating for a better explanation.

"We need to get dressed. Harper's getting the car ready, so we have about thirty minutes to get dressed."

"Get dressed for what?" I ask, clueless.

"We're going out."

"We are? I thought we were staying in tonight? You never mentioned going out."

"And I didn't say we were staying in either," he retorts sarcastically, smirking high and mighty at me knowing that I can't dispute it. "Get upstairs. Now."

"Going to have your wicked way with me before we leave?" My brows shoot up in suggestion, a quick fumble all I need to kill off the needy sensation threatening in my panties.

"That sounds fucking amazing… But, we haven't got the time."

I feel my sex whimper in agony and upset.

"A quick fuck is okay but, baby, the way I feel this second for you… I'll need to be inside you for a very, very long time and we just don't have time for that."

I pout at him but it doesn't work in changing his mind. Both hands grabbed me by the shoulders, turning me on the spot and heading me on my way back upstairs to change. I tried to resist him playfully, acting a dead weight, but a quick and sharp tap on my butt sent me on my way.

I took the stairs as quick as I could, slamming my feet along the way in objection to his 'Ana, be careful' lecture. I know he's only worried about you but God does he go on and on! I tussle around the luggage at the top stair – one suitcase already full of gifts and mementos.

"Christian, where are we going?" I peek out of the window, looking to the dark blanket overhead. "It's really dark out."

"I should hope so, it's almost eight."

I hear him move around behind me, heading into the bathroom. He doesn't answer my question so I persist again.

"Ana, you remember that little discussion we had? I told you we came here to see something."

"Yeah… Red, bouncy thing on your phone." I add to my reply with my hands acting out my speech, bouncing an imaginary ball. "The thing."

"Yes, the thing… Well, we're going to see it. Tonight."

A buzz of adrenaline fires through me, alerting every hair on my body. _Finally?_

_I guess he wasn't kidding when he said he'd give you a twenty minute warning!_ My subconscious bites, her head stuck in one of our bags of treats.

I can't withhold the big, cheesy grin splitting over my face. I've been waiting for this. Christian bounces off my quick mood swing, strolling to me and kissing me all over my face.

"Can I know now?" I beg him like a two year old, desperate to grasp any information. The unknowing killing me.

"Ana…" He talks down to me in that 'I'm stern, but not really' sort of way. I pout and fluff out my bottom lip, puppy-like, until he caves. "Fine… We're heading to the theatre."

"_The theatre_?"

"Yes, and we're going to be late if you don't start getting ready." Christian releases me and heads back into the bathroom, pushing the door to a jamb behind him.

"We're going to the theatre?"

"You heard me. Now, get ready!"

"You're sure we're heading to the theatre?"

"One hundred per cent. Ana, don't make me tell you again."

My skin tingles, thinking of the possibilities. I decide not to press him again – well, at least not for the time being.

I trudge across the floor and route through my clothes, everything woollen, denim or some sort of stretchy fabric.

"Christian, I haven't got anything that's theatre ready. They won't let me through the door!" I call out to him, remembering our last trip to the theatre – the one in London. I was made to wear a lengthy, satin ball gown in Aqua Blue. A diamante hair slide to complete to ensemble. Christian looked incredible in a Tom Ford tux.

"Don't worry about that. It's not that sort of place."

* * *

We drove for over an hour, driving through the tranquil streets of the town once again before hitting a more rural part. More coastal even.

Only Harper and Travis accompanied us, both of them waiting patiently in the Audi for us to step out into the freeze. It's so much colder during the nights. I looked at Christian, wondering where the other two were, but he told me that they were having the night off. I was confused, seeing as when we had ventured out previously it was always the four of them flanking us, but I didn't grumble any further, my excitement wiping my mind clear of anything unimportant.

When the car finally came to a stop, in a rather small, open parking lot, I turned and tried to look all around me. I couldn't see any large buildings like the theatre we'd visited in London, only a plethora of glowing amber lights off the edge of the hill to the left of the car - disappearing down into nothingness.

Christian asked me to trust him, wanting to add to the surprise with a visit from a certain familiar blindfold. I nodded my head without a second thought, sitting forward a little from his body to allow him to secure it over my eyes, effectively blinding me.

He helped me from the car as he always has, the salty breeze smacking my face and almost knocking me for six. I knew the water was close, the intensity heavier and the scent burning my nostrils and throat. His hands guided me step by step, coming out from under my arms as he stood like a tower behind me – like a wind breaker, the gust enough to topple me over if he wasn't there to protect me.

We walked for quite a few jagged steps, the ground severely uneven beneath my feet, but we manoeuvred it carefully – like time wasn't an issue for us. Christian's words were close to my ear, telling me which foot to lead with and when to step. I complied with everything he said, all of my nerve endings already on high alert knowing that outside of the blackness is just more, unavoidable dark. Even with blaring headlights on the car we were only able to see no more than ten feet ahead of us as we drove.

I could hear movement all around me, walking and mutterings from unfamiliar voices. I tightened my grip on Christian's hands, needing a tad more reassurance. He coaxed me through it, his easy and suave voice melting me like butter.

We descended down a dozen deep steps, concrete like under my feet. I could feel warmth around me, but I knew I was still outside.

Christian moved me a little further when we hit a more structured ground, moving away from behind me and taking the blindfold off my face. I blinked hard as I caught glimpse of yellow and white alien lights pointed toward me. My eyes stung so I kept them shut, waiting to flicker them open slowly.

"Holy cow…"

When I finally open my eyes properly, I'm dead… Jellified… Completely... blah…

Christian's hand grabs hold of mine, bringing it up to his lips for a kiss. I glance up to him, his smile infectious and ecstatic. He mouths 'I love you' to me, allowing me to take in the frontal views before spinning me around.

In front of us is a stage, almost a platform area. It sits more toward the left, the ground higher that side with several of rock formations acting like arches and pillars, adding to the set. There are a few props dotted around, mimicking forestry and the country. _The country brought to the coast_. Everything is carved into the cliff, but by the far the most stunning sight is the ocean just beyond the rim of the stage. The vast blue extends right from the rocks out for miles. No barriers or breaks. Just right there… Touching distance.

I spin to my left, the side of the cliff casting upward proving that all of this is embossed out of the earth and clay. A few balconies are jutting out from the jagged wall, and I notice some steps leading out from the side of the lifted stage – presumably a way toward these podiums in the air. Lights are dotted around sparingly, most of them pointed toward the stage and a few toward the seats behind us.

I turn one-eighty and look up at the tower we must have walked down. It's like nothing I have ever seen: rows upon rows cascading up to the sky, no blatant seats just benches really. The first few near the bottom are stone, covered in a multitude of thick fleece blankets, the rest lawn covered and unoccupied.

Christian drives me over to the blankets, sitting me down on them with a dozen cushions behind me for back support. His smile doesn't waver as he starts to unzip my jacket, lifting a familiar blanket and placing it around me. I smirk as I examine the red tartan… Our London blanket…

He pulls back for a second after wrapping me up like a baby, greeting an older gentleman who came over to welcome us. Christian offers thanks for housing us, confirming my thoughts that we're the only ones here to see this performance. The white-haired guy discards the gesture, expressively thanking Christian for his considerable donation to their foundation. He quickly disappeared and wished us a wonderful show under the twinkling stars. There isn't a cover in sight and I thank the heavens for not opening above us. Christian settles in beside me and allows me to fall into his side for a cuddle. I asked him about the donation, learning that this theatre – The Minack – only runs from May to October, and considering Blip is due in May he needed to bring me here now, or we ran the risk of not being able to come. With a generous donation to the Theatre company, the actors and stage-hands, all of this was possible. All because of him. My loving husband.

Everything falls quiet as some of the lights dim, two men appearing in front of us signalling the start of the performance. The first, arriving from the left, is tired looking, his clothes worked and dirty. The other comes in from the right, standing taller and more graceful: a gentleman of class. They pass each other and tip their hats, the dirtier one speaking first in a bellowing voice to his audience of two.

"Good day major passenger."

"Good day Sir John," his companion answers. He continues walking as the other stands still in confusion, turning toward the gentleman.

"Beggar your pardon Sir, but we met on this market day, on this road at this time and you called me Sir John?"

"I did"

"And once before that, again Sir John." His other nods and accepts his inquiry, telling him he's right. "But you know I am just plain John Durbeyfield, the haggler?"

_What?_

My mouth falls open, gawping at the actors in front of us who continue in performance. I snap my head to Christian, shaking my head over and over at him. I finally breathe again after a moment of loss, mumbling just one word to him: _Tess_.

He hugs me to him, bringing the blankets around us closer. His lips flush against my temple.

"She paved the way for us. She sort of brought us together, in a fashion."

I nod my head against him, flickering back to May: the interview, the emails, our first time, _the books_.

"Well, you gave away the books I gifted to you. You can't give this away."

* * *

"You are amazing." I beam up to Christian, unable to place a lid on my emotions. I smack my lips to his and repay him for his wonderfulness.

"You -" his finger taps my nose as I pull away from him. "You, have one more surprise."

"Christian, you've already done so much... The Theatre, Tess, my teddy." I look down at my chest where I've hugged the giant teddy bear he gave me in car ride back to the cottage. It's a huge white bear, a red velvet heart pulling his arms together in an embrace. Even though he's my bear I know I'll give him to Blip when he's here. A teddy for a teddy.

"Just one more surprise." His lips curl into the smile I love, and I cave in.

I close my eyes and turn to face the door, ready for Christian to guide me into the cottage and onto the 'surprise'.

He doesn't wait a second longer, ushering around my frame and opening the door and holding me as we step through into the family room. I come to a stop just seconds later, Christian's hands leaving me to shut the door on the cold snap outside.

It's warm in here, the heat flashing around my cheeks and fingers wonderfully - the rest of me covered in several layers of thick materials. I breathe in the sweet scent, trying to work out the array of aromas coursing around the room. My eyes are still firmly shut, simply heightening my sense of smell.

I can grab a hint of Vanilla and Chocolate... Maybe Cherry? But they're just the subtle ones, the more over powering one incredibly sweet and familiar. A smell that most people can pinpoint. _Roses_.

"You can open your eyes now."

I startle feeling his breath at my ear, hesitating for a moment before I lifted my eyelids. They flickered and embraced the warm, dulcet hues dancing around the room.

"Christian."

The couches have been pulled away from the fireplace, comforters and blankets laid across the floor with pillows all around the square. The fire is roaring in life, the logs burning honestly and yet another smell I can pick up on - previously oblivious in comparison to the earthy and romantic aromas. The charcoal is significantly masked by the several hundred roses dotted all around the room in various glass vases.

Roses of red, white and pink are scattered everywhere, covering every single surface. Full dozens dotted around in full bloom exciting a heavenly smell. Candles of similar colours are sparked around equally, these and the fire providing the only light in the room - bar the Christmas tree in the corner blinking in full glory for the first time since we arrived. Even the angel on top is lit up in a gold and white bloom, smiling at us protectively.

I slide around the room toward the makeshift 'sleeping' area, approaching the coffee table covered in rose petals, tealight candles and a bowl of beautifully foiled Chocolates... My favourite Chocolates... Dove's Promises.

I feel Christian behind me so I turn to face him, outstretching my arms widely to him and forcing him into my hold. I reach up onto my toes and yank his neck down to me, stooping him to my level as I dot kisses around his face frequently.

"I love you so much, Christian Trevelyan-Grey!" I proudly announce to him between my loud, wet kisses. "I love you so much."

* * *

**Again, the theatre is genuine... Equally as beautiful!**

**I really hope you've enjoyed this chapter and I hope you've had a happy Valentines day.**

**I know so many of you are waiting for the reveal and it will be the next chapter! It might be a very long one simply because I don't know if I can cut it down any more than I have. I don't know when I'll be able to get it out to you because I have some uni work to take care of first, but I will try to get it out as soon as possible.**

**Thank you for reading! x**


	71. Chapter 71

**Disclaimer: The majority of the characters that are portrayed in this story are those that pertain to the Fifty Shades trilogy by E L James. These characters remain her sole property respectively. The plots and themes explored in this story are those of the author, infamouschelsea. The author is in no way affiliated with James and/or the publishing corporation which produced the original works. Any recognisable brands, places or persons used in the story are the sole property of their respected owners and are not the property of the author. No copyright infringement is intended.**

**Hi Guys,**

**Bit longer of a delay than I thought, but thanks for being so patient! Means a lot!**

**Some of you asked about this and I really should have added a little memo at the end of the last chapter: The extract that Ana read to Christian was taken from Thomas Hardy's 'Tess of the dUbervilles' - but I'm sure some of you already worked that out! ;) And, I also extracted the opening lines from a revised script of a Tess performance. I should have nodded to the source! Oops!**

**Ellie - Sorry to hear about your test! I've got my fingers crossed for you and I hope everything goes better in the future. I think the easiest way for me to offer what, very little, advice I have would be if you were to sign up to the site, so we can discuss in depth? If you sent across a PM to me I'll be able to tell you what I did. Glad you're enjoying it! :) xx**

**LA - Thank you! I'm really, really glad you're enjoying it! I did assume that you were American - the initials and the times that your reviews come through made me piece together an idea! :) Both places I have written about in detail, the cove and the theatre, are in Cornwall. If you type them into a search engine they will come up and you can see them. I just hope I've done them justice in trying to describe them! :) xx**

**MX - Very sweet surprise. We all love CG when he's like this! Thank you! :) xx**

**I've decided to split this chapter up - I hate the longer chapters because I just feel it's too much to handle in one go. Expect the next chapter later today, or tomorrow at the latest. I'm hoping to get it done today though! :) I hope you like it!**

**Much Love and Happy Reading,**

**Chelsea x**

* * *

I'm wholly and candidly mesmerised by my husband's eyes.

Since I collapsed on the floor beside him, utterly spent after hours upon hours of heated love making, my eyes have been lost in his. My passable blues haven't left his dazzling, sedated greys but for a blink or two.

We lay on the floor, side by side, for a short while. Our chests pounded in a serrated rhythm. Our lips were pulled back around our teeth in comical grins mirroring one another. Christian and I laughed simply by looking at each other – our tongues and brains unable to form words, or be able to push aside the feeling of ecstasy that was riddling through our bodies while we came down from an almighty high.

Christian could only lie there for a little while, soon sitting up and pushing his back against one of the couches with his arms propped up on either side behind him. He sat there in his full, unadulterated glory while I continued to sprawl out on the floor with just a bed sheet draped over me. The room was warm enough to survive without it, but I found myself tangled in a web until I shuffled my way over to him. I was then able to cast it down so it only covered my legs, the rest of me welcoming the cooler air on my clammy skin.

I moved to lie adjacent to him. I grabbed one of the cushions dotted around the makeshift picnic area Christian had had arranged for us, and pushed it under my shoulders for a little more support for my back while my head settled on his thighs. I didn't care that he was sheathed in a cocktail of our heightened passion – we can shower later if we really need to. I just wanted to be able to look up at him and drink him in – to take in as much of him as I can. As only I can. I count my blessings every day that only I can see him this way – exposed, unguarded and vulnerable.

One of Christian's hands is tousled in my hair, combing through the jungle. He's gentle with his strokes, pulling carefully through the knots to avoid causing me any pain. I didn't feel pain, just pleasure from the entrancing repetition.

His other hand is busy locked between mine. I curled my fingers around his, tapping out an insignificant pattern along each of his fingertips as I wove my fingers through the gaps. I pulled it down to my heart, his palm flat on my chest and feeling my pounded beat. It has remained there for a while now and I can feel his fingers lightly caressing my skin from beneath my palms. Each motion is delicate and small, but noticeable to me.

"Would you like another chocolate?"

Christian bursts the stillness that has grown around us. His fingers come to a stop midway through my hair as he waits for my answer. I blink hard a few times, trying to familiarise myself with speech but having to nod my head in the meantime. With a smile on his face he leaves my hair and extends forward to the coffee table, reaching for the ceramic bowl where my chocolates are held.

They truly are _my_ chocolates, and just the thought of what is about to follow sends every nerve in my body into overdrive. My smile hitches even higher knowing exactly what is to come.

My beloved husband has planned every single detail of this evening. I mean, he hasn't missed a thing yet! I know that by now this shouldn't be something that shocks me, but it really has. I expected him to put some thought into things – this is _the_ Christian Grey I'm married to – but I didn't expect any of this.

First off, Christian chose my favourite book to bring upstairs earlier today before getting me to read a passage to him. He gave it to me all innocently – little did I know he'd be taking me to see that very story come to life on stage, in the most beautiful theatre I have ever seen.

We sat covered in so many blankets, cuddling into each other and fighting off the late evening breeze that attempted to batter us. We sat and watched the drama evolve in front of us, the stars twinkling overhead and casting a protective eye on everything. When the play finished, and we took the opportunity to thank everyone for their hospitality, Christian walked me back to the car where I found my new teddy bear. My heart melted a little more than usual as he placed it in my arms. It wasn't some extravagant gift costing a ton of money, instead something sweet and genuine – something he knows I would prefer in comparison to an expensive, impersonal piece of crap I don't need.

Walking into this, the romantically decorated living room, simply topped everything off wonderfully.

Every candle lit around the place is one of my favourites, each and every one of them a Yankee in a flavour I adore – Fresh Cut Roses, Sweet Strawberry and Vanilla Cupcake.

Every Rose – passionate reds, feminine pinks and innocent whites – is tripping out a delicate scent that, all combined together, is sending my brain into meltdown. I don't know how I can cope with such a sensory delight!

Christian settles again, placing the bowl to his left and slips another foiled chocolate into my hands. He even made sure they were my favourites. Christian knows the reason why I love Dove's Promises – the hidden message inside that always brings a little light to your day – and he's used this to his advantage. When I said he's planned everything, I meant it. He has even planned the messages that are waiting inside my chocolates.

So far I've already had two and each time I've opened the wrapper I have found a piece of paper folded up inside, like one you'd find inside a fortune cookie. On them I found his fluid handwriting, a personal message dedicated to me.

_You are the reason I smile every single day. Anastasia, you are my reason to smile, to breathe and live. C x_

_You make all of this worthwhile. You make the pain go away and you give me a reason to fight. I love you more each day. C x_

I carefully start to peel away the foil of my chocolate, my fingers trembling in excitement.

I immediately remove the treat, placing it on my tongue and devouring it to avoid any more melting onto my fingertips. I go to lick the smudges off them, not wanting to soil the note waiting for me, but Christian got to them first. He quickly pulled my hand away from my mouth and lifted it to his. He slowly dipped each one into his mouth, stroking the chocolate off with his tongue and suckling each one hard before releasing it. A groan escaped me, this simply prolonging the task with a salacious smirk residing on his lips. He enjoys teasing me.

Releasing my hand he allows me to turn my attention to my message. As I start to unfold the paper I come to realise this one is much longer than the others I have received. It was folded small and several times, letting it hide unconscipuously inside the red wrapper.

I skim over the lengthy message, welling up from his out pour of love.

_Ana, you are everything to me. You are my sun, stars, earth and heaven. You are the centre of gravity that keeps me grounded and sane. I'm at my happiest when I am with you, and my saddest without. Ana, my beautiful, beautiful Ana, you are my world. I am nothing without you. Baby, you are mine and I'm yours, forever and always. I love you. Your Christian x_

I gulp hard, my eyes beginning to flood with water. My fingers are shaking crazily, making it impossible for me to fold the note back into its crease. I try a few times before giving up. I lift it to my lips for a moment, kissing it, before bringing it down to my heart. I cup my hands around his still lying on my chest, my eyes shooting up to his with ardour.

I have no words to offer him, because nothing would be sufficed this second, but I don't need any. Christian nods his head softly, accepting my unspoken gratitude. His fingers start to move under mine, tracing out a slight code on my breast: I.L.Y

I make to sit up from his legs, having to push off with my hands and using his body for support. It's a struggle - my tired muscles and bump hampering my efforts. Getting to my knees I move back toward Christian's side, to settle next to him with my back against the couch too. I stretch up first, bringing my lips to his cheek before curling under his arm for a cuddle.

The lighting has dimmed considerably, most of the candles having burnt out with just the fire providing any form of light – we turned out the Christmas tree after a while, the twinkling became a nuisance in the end. The logs are alive with amber and scarlet flames dancing along the wood. The echo of the logs cracking under the intense heat is a soothing sound and one that has filled the air for the past several hours.

I'm not entirely sure of how long Christian and I have been here, but I know it has been a long time. After coming back to the cottage and seeing my latest surprise I leapt up to him and began kissing him all over, telling him that I love him many times in between heavy breathes. Quickly we were all over each other. Our hands were tugging at each other's clothes, desperately trying to get them off as soon as possible.

I yanked off his t-shirt and tore open his zipper before dragging him to the floor.

I found myself under him. Panting. Squirming. Ready.

His lips were everywhere – my lips, my jaw, my neck… Everywhere.

Everything seems so much brighter when we're alone. When it's just us, it's like there are no barriers - the possibility for complete honesty looking ever greater. I know that when it's just me and Christian that I'm safe. I know that nothing and no one can hurt me, not bitch troll, not Hyde – nobody. Sometimes I think that the only person who has the ability to hurt me so much is Christian. I know undoubtedly he wouldn't hurt me on purpose, just that he has that amount of control over me. We're joined not only in marriage but in heart. He moves, I move. He breathes, I breathe. If he's in pain, I suffer along with him.

I hate to see him in pain.

My mind wanders seamlessly, thoughts passing through swiftly without pitching for too long. My head is nuzzled into the crook of his underarm, his arm wrapped tightly around my body to keep me close to him. I stare vacantly at his body, skimming down his chest and the soft copper hairs there until my eyes meet his V extending down to his length. My hands are lightly fingering over his waist, stretching out across the rock hard muscles. I'm careful as I trace around his skin, avoiding his tickle spot completely and only lightly touching his scars.

In this sort of light his scars are almost invisible but I've memorised their positions. I mean, I've spent long enough studying his body – almost as much as he has with me! But, in the light of day his small, circular scars are fairly noticeable. Usually he doesn't flinch when I touch them but I'm still cautious. I hate the idea of it bringing some horrid memory back to him.

Moving my fingers across the ones on his front I force a brief smile, dipping my head to his pectorals and gently kissing the nearest scar to me.

Christian's fingers stiffen and press into my upper arm a little as I place my lips to him. I pull away instantly, pushing my head back into his arm and trying to stay as still as I can. I didn't notice I had stopped breathing until I felt his fingers relax in response. After a minute his hand came up under my chin, lifting my face to his. An apologetic smile is sitting on his mouth as he stares down at me, his other arm coming around to my legs and ushering me to stretch them out over his, instead of scrunching them to my stomach. I do as he suggests, wrapping myself into his side further.

His thumb rolls over my lips, parting them slightly before whispering to me.

"What are you thinking about?" His voice is soft and muted, as if he's telling me a secret and doesn't want the world to know.

"Nothing in particular," I shake my head. "A lot of different things are running in and out of my head."

"Well, tell me the last thing that ran out."

I wrack my mind trying to process the last thing I was thinking of, settling that it was probably Blip. My mind is always on Blip.

I have a light bulb moment, nodding my head in confirmation as I realise what I've been toying with for a little while now.

"I've been thinking about work."

His face twists in confusion and I stutter, clearing up what I meant.

"I mean, I've been thinking about work and the baby… I think you're right."

"Right about what, exactly?" Christian doesn't seemed shocked at this, despite the fact I've rarely said such a thing to him, but his focus has drifted momentarily to a lock of hair falling in front of my face. He tucks it behind my ear before returning back to me.

"Well, mainly how you're always saying that I need to take it easy and I think you're right." I tell him. "I should've listened to you before but I guess it's taken what happened in our last appointment with Dr Greene for me to realise this. Christian, what if it's a sign?"

"What?" His head jolts backward, "Ana is there something you're not telling me? Is something wrong that I don't know about?"

I feel his body tighten and his panic rising. His mouth is sharp and hard, cutting out his incessant questions without a pause for breath. I try to quieten him, repeating his name several times but nothing works. I grow agitated, snapping and clamping my fingers around his lips – effectively sealing them shut - to silence him.

"No!" I bite sharply, sucking in a long breath in preparation to continue in a calmer and more understanding tone. "No, nothing is wrong Christian… Do you really think I'd keep something from you? Especially if it's about Blip?!"

He closes his eyes and shakes his head from side to side, conceding.

"What I meant was that this high blood pressure thing can be serious, and it's worrying me. I know it's not good for my body, but it can't be good for him either." My voice starts to break and stammer. "All I want is for him to be okay. I need him to be safe. I need to keep him safe."

"Ana, he will be. I promise you." He pulls my head into him, his hand stroking my hair and scooping it down my back. "I promise you everything will be okay. I'll do whatever it takes."

"Dr Greene's right. I know she is. It's probably stress related, right?" I ask, trailing off again without giving him time to respond. "I'm gaining weight normally and she's not said anything about that. I'm eating regularly and relatively healthy. Yes, I have snacks that aren't great but it's not as if they're all the time. So, that leaves stress… If I slow down at work maybe it'll be okay? Maybe that'll make it okay?"

"Ana, slow down." He snaps at me to bring me out of my mini meltdown. "Listen to me. We will sort this. Ana, I won't let anything bad happen to you or the baby. You will both be fine."

I grind my teeth together in resistance to believe him. I just want my baby to be okay and with high blood pressure he won't be. I know he won't.

I close my eyes and sniff loudly as I try to hold back my overwhelming emotions. Wherever my baby is concerned I'm an emotional wreck. I love him already and I haven't even met him – or her! I finally cave, nodding my head and rubbing my cheek into his shoulder. Breathing in his smell helps to calm me – his unique blend of body wash and pure Christian Grey.

His hand rubs my back, in between my shoulder blades, in broad and circular strokes to comfort me. I start to relax into him, breathing more regularly. Christian waited until I was ready to talk again, making sure I'm calm, before starting the topic up for round two.

"Does this mean you're going to take your maternity leave early?"

"No!" I jerk my head back from his shoulder, my eyes wide and horrified. In defence both of his palms shoot up, pleading the fifth. "Sorry, but I still want to work. I need to contribute something to this," I gesture to the gap between us. "I love my job and I'm not going to give it up just because I'm having a baby. All I meant was slowing down a little, doing less hours or something."

"Baby, it's your company. If that's what you want to do then I have every faith that you'll make it work. You've got a good team at the moment, and I'm sure having Kate there now is a plus. Can you imagine her letting the company go under?" Christian cocks his head to the side to emphasise his point. No one can argue that he's wrong on that one. Kate gives Christian a pretty good run for his money in the tyrant race!

"I need to do this." I tell him firmly, making my decision right here, right now. "I'll start off small… One day a week at home, or something like that. I can always build it up if I need to."

"Sounds like a great plan, and I'm here to support you no matter what. If I need to work from home with you as well, then that's what I'll do… We might not get a hell of a lot of work done, but it sounds like an interesting idea."

_Aw, my sweet Christian. _I grin, having to bite down on my lower lip to hold some of it back. _Thank you_. My smile soon fades.

"This is a wake-up call. This is my body telling me that I haven't always been putting our baby first." I feel my chest tighten, my worst nightmare tearing through my thoughts. "I can't lose our baby… I can't… I died a thousand deaths when I was…"

I trail off. I can't even bring myself to say the word.

_Bleeding._

_I was bleeding. _

_I almost lost him._

That memory scars me the most, Christian too. I can feel his body react the same as mine – becoming rigid in fear and agony. I look up at his face and see his eyes slammed shut, as if he's reeling it off again in his mind. Step by step.

I fell and he wasn't there... Everyone tried to get a hold of him and they couldn't… He was missing... The sharp, stabbing pain in my back… I was scared... I took a bath to try and help it… I was already bruised... He came back and ran upstairs to me… He helped me from the tub and saw it… The blood trickling down my legs… The water rapidly becoming soiled with a fleshy, red fire…

"Carrick told me what happened to Grace."

I break the silence first, trying to work through it and deciding not to bottle it up again. I keep my voice down and my words slow and concise.

"He told me what happened when they lost their baby. How one minute he was there and fine, and then he was gone." I run my hand across the heaviest part of my stomach feeling a punch winding me clean, but it wasn't Blip that caused it. "I don't want that to happen to us… That can't happen to us. Christian, I won't be able to survive if it does… Not my little Blip –"

I feel my lungs exploding for air. I gasp and try to suck in air as quick as I can, needing to get my fill soon before I keel over and faint. I can feel myself starting to hyperventilate: my shoulders hitching up and down and my stomach twitching in perfect symmetry. I start to panic, my mouth becoming dry and scratchy. I can take in so much air, but none of it comes out.

"Oh God," Christian rants, kicking himself into action.

Wrapping his arms around me, and practically scooping me into his lap, his arms cocoon around me - securing me to his front with his lips pressing against my ear. He shushes me, telling me it's okay and that all I need to do is breathe. I nod my head but struggle to give in and do as he says. I know it'll be okay when I do.

_Do this for Blip. Do it for him._

I force myself to a stop, having to hold my breath in to stop me from sucking in any more oxygen. I cling to his chest, bouncing off his smooth and seamless breaths as a kick-start for mine. I try and mirror his rise and fall, slowly coming down and regulating my breathing and just about composing myself.

Christian just keeps whispering to me in a calm voice, reassuring me that I'm safe and everything's fine. He tells me that I shouldn't be worried because Dr Greene isn't frantic over this right now. If she was really concerned I would be hooked up to a monitor twenty-four seven, and she'd have me on high alert!

He's right – she's the professional in this and if she's not worried then I shouldn't be either.

I finally start to believe him, cursing my little Blip and raging hormones for this latest debacle. I'm just being paranoid and I'm letting my love for him overwhelm that. But, knowing about Grace doesn't help matters. She didn't deserve that. No woman deserves that.

After a while I'm able to start talking again. I start off with monosyllables, simply testing my abilities and finding I can string together a sentence soon enough, as long as I keep it slow.

"I can't even begin to imagine what Grace felt." I slur, feeling numb. "I can't imagine what must have gone through her mind, having her little Blip just… just… torn from her like that."

"Neither can I."

Christian's voice is cold and sombre. I know this isn't something either of us wants to discuss but I know we need to. I've been carrying it for a few weeks and I don't know how much longer I can cope with it sitting on my shoulders.

"I just can't get it out of my head, no matter how much I try. I just can't get my head around the idea of how fast your whole world can be taken from you."

"You're not alone in that, Ana." I sit up from him and pull back from his chest a little, looking up at his face. "I think about it too. I think about it every morning. I think about what they were faced with when they woke, and from the second I wake up it's in my head."

"It is?"

"Without fail," he shifts under me with a slight grimace on his face. I wonder if it's me and my weight causing discomfort and so I decide to move, just in case. I clamber out of his lap and move back to sit at his side, propping my head on his bicep.

"Ana, there are times when I curse my parents to hell and back for being so open with their experiences. Don't get me wrong, I admire them dearly for it but, I just wish that I didn't know. I wish that I could just wake up in the morning and think of petty things, not whether my wife is still pregnant."

I can see him tense up, flexing every muscle in his body as he builds up a shield of defence. His fingers curl up into a fist, his knuckles turning translucent. I want to run my hands all over to soothe him, thinking that it might help as it often has before, but I don't. I keep my hands to myself, fearing that he'll squirm and it'll make matters worse. My head is turned completely to him, my eyes examining his face all over.

"The first thing I do when I wake up is check you over." Christian breathes. "I have to."

"You check me?"

"Every morning. I have to check to see if you're okay, to see if you're still…" He jerks his head to the side, facing away from mine. He stops mid-sentence with his voice splintering. "I have to check to see if he's still there."

I reach across and take his hand in mine, lifting it from his leg and bringing it over to my own. His fist is still clenched hard so I strum my thumb over his knuckles repeatedly, remembering the way Grace has done this to me previously.

"I do too." I whisper. "You're not alone in that. I force myself to look down there to see… It's terrifying but I force myself to do it because I have to know he's okay. Christian, this world is cruel and it's horrible how fate works –"

"Oh, come on." Christian cuts me off, huffing at me. "You don't really believe in all that fate shit, do you?"

"Yes. I do." I stab back just as quickly. "Yes, I believe in fate because it's true."

"Ana, there is no such thing."

"No. Christian, just think about it. Grace lost her baby. Maybe there was something wrong with her Blip? Maybe he was going to suffer and so someone up there decided to step in first? That's the easy way to explain it… But, if that hadn't of happened Grace might not have been working that day you were found and taken to hospital. She could've been on a different shift or something."

"Coincidence."

"Like fuck it is!" I protest, building up my lecture for him. "Everything happens for a reason in this world. Just think about everything that has happened to us… First, there's Grace returning to work the day you were found. Then, after months of Kate begging you for an interview you finally agree and then she fell sick. It meant I had to come in her place. I met you because of it! Is that not fate? Doesn't it show that we were meant to meet? Isn't that proof enough?"

He shakes his head, arguing with me. I sit up straighter and turn my torso more squarely, facing him head-on and ready to battle it out.

"Christian, my shot ran out early. Dr Greene said it must have. If it worked properly then I wouldn't have got pregnant… Okay, it might have been a bad batch or yes, it was my fault because I didn't check up on my appointments, but don't you think we were meant to have this baby?"

He finally turns back to me, his eyes opening in thought.

"Christian, so much has happened to us, most of it awful but it had to happen. It's made us stronger. Everything we've been through has led us to this point. We're stronger than ever because of it, or at least I think we are."

"We are." His eyes drop to my chest. "We are stronger now. I just struggle to believe the world can be that cruel on purpose. It's bad enough just looking at it as an unfortunate accident."

"Bad things happen so that we learn to appreciate the good things."

"How did you get to be this way?" Christian eyes me. He narrows them and interrogates. "I'm starting to think you've been spending too much time with my family."

"My family too." I smirk at him, sticking my tongue out in jest. "I love _our _family."

"I'm glad you do. Everyone adores you, but that's not difficult. You're a very loveable person."

I feel his fingers uncurl, swirling around to weave them through the gaps between mine. He brings my hand up to his face, his lips kissing each knuckle and paying particular attention to my rings. I still feel awkward after everything.

"Mia loves you. You're the sister she never had. Elliot adores you. He just has a very strange way of showing it. My parents worship you, Ana. They treat you like you're one of their own... I'm surprised you haven't had to sit through the adoptions talk yet."

"_Adoptions talk?_" I repeat with a shriek in my throat.

"You don't know what I talking about, do you?"

I shake my head.

"I seriously thought Grace would've sat you down and talked you through everything by now! My parents have always been open in that. Ever since we were children we've all known about our adoptions."

"Well, I'm sure they knew they'd have to tell you all eventually. Honesty is the best policy, especially when it's something that important."

"Of course, but I meant we know about each other." He sets me right. "It would be wrong for them to drop a bomb on us when we turned eighteen or something, so they've always made sure we knew where we came from. They made sure that we knew about each other too. They had a no secrecy rule."

"You all know about each other?" I reply, a little surprised. "The adoptions… You all know what happened to each other?"

He nods his head at me, offering that 'seriously, keep up' expression. I chew on the inside of my cheek as he proceeds to clear it up for me.

"We're a family. Grace and Carrick were desperate to make sure we were exactly that. They made sure it wasn't something to be ashamed of, so we've grown up knowing why and how we were adopted." He shifts on his behind, flexing his legs out straight in front of him. "Elliot and Mia don't know the full story of what happened to me and I don't want them to. There are only two people I feel marginally comfortable discussing it with. You and Flynn. That's it. No one else."

"I won't say anything." I mutter, assuring him I'm going to go and spill his secrets to anyone.

"No, I know you won't!" He corrects himself, "I just meant that I want to keep it away from them. I don't want to be pestered into discussing what happened. You know what they're like! I've had enough therapy sessions, I don't want any more than the ones I already have to endure. My parents and I discussed it and it's something we've mutually agreed to keep private."

I nod my head in understanding. I know exactly how Mia can be. After I left hospital and was surrendered to complete rest for a month, she was always there. Christian had arranged for someone to come and visit when he wasn't there – Kate, Mia, Grace, even Carrick came along for a visit! He didn't want me left alone at any point. Mia would sit there constantly asking questions about what happened to me. I tried to deflect and ask about what happened to her when she was kidnapped from the gym, but it didn't work. Mia Grey cannot be distracted easily.

"Besides, my past is too much for them. Theirs aren't. Neither of their backstories are as tainted as mine. They're a world away from what happened to me. They're the lucky ones."

I drop my eyes to Christian's other hand, watching it clench and release several times. I stroke my fingers over the hand I've got, trying my best to comfort him. I bring it to my mouth and kiss it all over. I can feel him trembling.

He arcs his head down to me, resting his forehead against mine.

He doesn't say anything, just breathing heavily and occasionally looking into my doe eyes.

I stare at him, concentrating on the way he's rolling his lips against each other and turning them white in the process. I can see he's hesitating - ready to say something but trying to find the right words to fit.

He eventually builds up the momentum to begin, starting in a fluid and whispered voice.

"Elliot was two and a half when Grace and Carrick first met him."

* * *

**Next chapter coming very soon! I've cut it off literally at the half way mark, and in a place where it might flow a little better. I know I said this was the reveal but as I said above it was way too long. You'll understand when you see the next one - fingers crossed!**

**I hope you liked it! More to follow! x**


	72. Chapter 72

**Disclaimer: The majority of the characters that are portrayed in this story are those that pertain to the Fifty Shades trilogy by E L James. These characters remain her sole property respectively. The plots and themes explored in this story are those of the author, infamouschelsea. The author is in no way affiliated with James and/or the publishing corporation which produced the original works. Any recognisable brands, places or persons used in the story are the sole property of their respected owners and are not the property of the author. No copyright infringement is intended.**

**As promised, here's the second half of the almighty chapter! I'm sorry this is a big one! I promise the future ones won't be!**

**Nikki – That's a great thing to hear and so very lovely of you to say! I'm super happy that you love the story and are looking forward to more! As always I look forward to hearing your thoughts on updates :) x**

**MX – Thank you! Again, so glad you liked it! The notes were my favourite part too – it's great to write those sorts of scenes. Strangely enough, writing romance is more appeasing than the drama! I'm good thank you, I hope you are too? :) x**

**Andrea – Thank you! I can't wait to hear your thoughts on future updates! :) x**

**Guest 1 – Thank you! Very much appreciated :) x**

**Guest 2 – Don't worry on that front! I've mentioned it before but I'm staying true to what we already know from the books. In the epilogue we know Ana and Christian have Teddy in May 2012. I'm just filling the blanks here, nothing else. No cheating and no losing Teddy here. x**

**I'm always grateful and humbled by your comments. I'm looking forward to hearing from you soon!**

**Much Love and Happy Readings,**

**Chelsea x**

* * *

"Elliot was two and a half when he first met Grace and Carrick." Christian repeats himself after taking a long breath.

I sat patiently at his side, watching him while he paused. My eyes examined his face rigorously, taking in how his blinks were heavy and exhausted. He rubbed his eyes hard with his fingers for a few seconds, rolling his shoulders at the same time. I know he's tired, the lines under his eyes telling me this too, and I was just about to tell him that it's okay – that we don't need to do this right now – when he began again.

Opening his eyes slowly, Christian pulls back from my front to widen a gap between us. He shifts to move to his previous position and I copy his motions. I push backwards on my behind, flushing my spine with the couch like him with my legs crossed, my shoulders hunched forward and my hands sitting calmly in my lap. Both of our heads are angled down. I can't feel his eyes on me, like I usually can, so I risk a glance and stare at him from the corner of my eye - again his are shut and his jaw looks tense. Too tense.

"They always talked about how expressive Elliot was as a young child. Even I remember how he could never sit still for more than ten seconds at a time. Apparently he was like that as a baby too… Grace says that he always had a smile on his face and would constantly need sustenance, otherwise he'd be running around and causing trouble... I guess nothing's changed there then?"

I continue to look at him from the corner of my eye, noticing that his lips have hitched to a smirk – higher on the side nearest to me, his right. A brief laugh escapes him as he thinks of Elliot. I smile knowing how he loves all of his family, even if he doesn't show it on his face all of the time. I know more than anyone that Christian has a very big heart.

"She used to talked about how he would just light up whenever they entered the room. She likes to believe that he knew what was happening. That he knew why they were there… I'm not as easily convinced."

I roll my eyes. I know all too well that it takes a lot to convince him of anything! But, a part of me wonders if he has a point. I mean, can a two year old fully understand what's going on around them?

"It took eighteen months until he was actually adopted, even though they'd had all of the appropriate checks and had been considered fit to adopt."

"I can imagine it's a long process." I answer, nodding my head gently. I feel his eyes on me so I cock my head towards him. He's nodding too.

"It is. There are numerous checks, interviews and there have to be petitions for the child's guardianship, to see if there are any other family members alive who might be willing to come forward." His eyes drop from mine, his head still facing me. "But that's not what was holding it up… Elliot wasn't in state custody at all through his adoption, not like I was. Grace and Carrick were simply waiting for Elliot's grandmother to die before they could be decreed as his legal guardians."

"What?" I jerk my head back, confused. "His grandmother?"

Christian nods, "He'd been under her care since he was eight months old. Since his parents were killed."

My eyes widen rapidly, my brows shooting up in shock. His face is unchanged, telling me such a thing in a nonchalant way – barely a flicker of change in his expression or tone. I search his face for movement and find nothing, so I pluck the courage to ask for clarification.

"Elliot's parents were killed when he was just a baby?"

He offers a single nod of his head, angling his face so he's pointed toward the fire in front of us again – deterring his gaze from me.

"How? Why?"

"It was a hit and run. Car hit them and then sped off. Police ran investigations but they never found who was responsible… The case is still open, or at least it was the last time Carrick checked."

A cold shiver rips through me, starting in my head and vibrating down my spine, splintering down through my limbs. It courses through me, twisting in every crevice and fragment of my body until it disperses into a generalised numbness.

_Elliot was just a baby. He won't even remember them._

"They were out shopping when it happened. It was Black Friday so they were probably out getting Christmas presents or something. Nobody knows the exact details."

"It happened just before Christmas?" I ask, a throaty creek breaking out from my mouth. I gulp hard before asking the next question, wondering if I truly want to know the answer. "Was he with them when it… When they were -"

"God, no!" Christian blasts in distaste. He pulls his head back sharply, shaking his head fast. "No, Elliot wasn't with them when they were killed. Thank God… No, he was with his grandmother at the time. He was safe."

I let out the breath I was holding, almost sighing in relief for that small consolation. I think I might actually have thrown up if he'd had told me Elliot was present when it happened. Although, the momentarily relief is not completed shielded from the gut-wrenching stab that is piercing my heart repetitively. My heart burns for Elliot, thoughts of my own loss ever present.

I think of my father… I never had the chance to forge a memory of him. I lost him just one day after my birth.

I try to blink away the water filling my eyes, desperate not to breakdown. Christian's unknowing of this, continuing on without a second hesitation.

"There are a lot of unanswered questions regarding what happened… There were no witnesses to the accident itself. The only people who were present were there a short time after, when the police started to arrive… No one saw the car that hit them. Detectives lined up some possible theories, making a link between the accident and a robbery that was taking place a few blocks down but without something concrete they couldn't do shit."

"But someone called the cops, right? Someone must have seen what happened in order to call them."

"Elliot's seems to think that it might have been one of the bastards in the car, that they might have had a conscience after all instead of being an inhumane prick, driving away without a second thought." Christian huffs at his brother's theory. "Everyone's got a different idea but all we have to go on is from the police reports and doctor's notes… They concluded that his parents were crossing a street when the car turned in. They worked out that the car must've been doing at least fifty, based on the injuries Elliot's father sustained… He took the burden of the impact.

"His father was knocked clean off his feet and was in the middle of the street when the paramedics turned up. His mother was found lying near the sidewalk… They think he may have seen the car just before it hit him and he pushed her out of the way." Christian's head drops a little lower. "He essentially saved her life."

I bring my hand to my mouth, rubbing my lips hard and pinching them between my thumb and forefinger. I fold my other arm around my front, sitting it across the top of my stomach.

"Did he die there?"

"He was pronounced dead on scene. Paramedics checked him over and noticed he had a broken neck and a cracked skull. In the post-mortem they also found extensive internal bleeding in his abdomen and multiple spinal fractures… He was a goner as soon as that car turned into the street."

I wince, hard. Grotesque visions fleet across my thoughts. I slam my eyes shut to try and block them out but they show up clearer.

"When the paramedics knew there was nothing they could do for him they turned to Elliot's mother." He pauses for a second, sucking in a sharp breath. "They took her to the emergency for treatment. Her injuries were localised to her head. She barely had a mark anywhere else, but she was beat up pretty bad… There was nothing they could do to help her. It was too late."

Christian runs to a halt. I flicker my eyelids open after a period of stillness, forcing myself to look at him. I fight back my overwhelming thoughts and feelings. I chew down so hard on my bottom lip, hoping that the discomfort will help to keep away the tears and it seems to do the trick. I focus on my breaths instead of letting my compassion for Elliot's loss torment me.

I turn my head to Christian. His shoulders are hunched far forward, his spine almost a perfect C shape. His head is dipped toward his lap, his eyes open and searching his legs and the immediate floor in front of him. His arms are lax on his thighs, his palms pointing up and open.

I want to move closer to him but I'm numb, not just in my behind from sitting on the relatively uncomfortable floor, but all over. I can't even muster anything in response, just sitting here blank on the outside and falling to pieces inside.

"His father managed to save her from the car but he must have pushed her too hard. She fell to the ground and hit her head off the sidewalk… She had a fractured skull like her husband, and when she got to the ER the doctors noticed she had blood coming from her ears. She had a bleed on her brain."

"They couldn't do anything? Surgery?"

"No. When it's that bad there's nothing you can do." He tells me in a hushed voice. "Grace said that they have to run function tests… Sensitivity to pain and light, that sort of thing… They ran them several times and it showed up negative. Once the brain has shut down, that's it. There's no coming back from that."

I shut my eyes as a tear escapes. I remove my fingers from my lips and swipe it across my cheeks, destroying the evidence.

"The only positive thing is that they're sure she didn't suffer... The doctor's reports state that with that type of injury it would've been quick, she wouldn't have felt anything once she hit the floor."

I nod my head. "What happened when they knew she was gone?"

"She was hooked up to life support and they tried to find a next of kin to make the decision, but that was her husband. She didn't have anyone else so under state law it's in the hands of the doctors treating her… A couple of doctors have to agree there's nothing more they can do before pulling the plug… Elliot's mother was declared brain dead at noon on November twenty-seventh 1981."

"Elliot was left with his grandmother?"

"She was his only surviving relative so she was given automatic custody, but she was an old, fragile woman... Carrick said that she was already in her seventies when they met with her. There was no way she would be able to care for a young child properly, and give him everything he needed and she knew that, so she decided to look into having him fostered."

"_Fostered_?" I repeat.

"She didn't want to lose Elliot completely, and she thought that if he was adopted straightaway she would never see him again… She was adamant that she was going to be around for him for as long as she could be, and she was. It was a disclaimer in the papers that Elliot could only be adopted after her death and she was to have regular visits with him."

"If your parents didn't meet with him until he was two, who looked after him before?"

"No one, except his grandmother… Apparently there were several couples who came forward but she didn't like them. Carrick said she was a very strong woman. She didn't take crap off anyone… The only couple who stood out was our parents. They had everything going for them, even then… Young, married, both from well-respected families… Who wouldn't want a paediatrician with a clean record, and an attorney who's just set up his own firm to raise their grandchild?"

I agree with him wholly. Grace and Carrick are the perfect people to raise children. I couldn't imagine a pairing better than them. I know if anything were to happen to Christian and me, I would want Blip to go to them. Blip would need to have a stable family, one that will last the test of time.

"Well, they all met several times but she knew from the off that they were the right ones to care for Elliot. After about three months she signed over temporary guardianship to them and he went to live with them… Of course he'd spent a lot of time with our parents first, to make sure it would work but that was never an issue. He took to them like a boat to water."

"So, his grandmother died when he was four, right?" I ask, recalling what he's already told me – also knowing from previous that Elliot had been Grace and Carrick for almost two years before Christian came along.

"Almost four. She died in the February. Elliot's birthday is March 15th."

"Does he remember her at all?"

Christian twists his face, an indecisive expression filling him. He shrugs his shoulder, relaying only what he knows from talking to Elliot. "He says he does, but he doesn't know if that's from his own memories or just from what he's been told about her. He was still very young but he says he remembers going to her house a lot to play and watch cartoons."

"So she got her wish? His grandmother, she got to see him a lot?"

"Of course, it was a stipulation. If Grace and Carrick didn't adhere to it they could've lost Elliot, but they were okay with it all... They were happy to take Elliot to see his grandmother as often as she wanted to see him. They started off with a couple of visits a week, just until Elliot got used to spending a lot of time with our parents, then they dropped to one a week. Over time they lessened the amount of visits."

"Why?"

"She was getting older and she was very sick towards the end." Christian shifts and sits back, propping his elbows on the couch behind him, as he did before. He yawns subtly before continuing. "They did it to protect Elliot. When they knew she wasn't going to be around much longer they cut down the amount of visits, so that he didn't become too dependent on her. They all decided it was for the best that he started to move forward with his new family."

"Oh…" My mouth falls open, understanding their decision.

I guess that would've been the best option. It could've upset Elliot tenfold to have weekly visits and then all of sudden she was gone. At least by spacing them out he would come to understand he wouldn't see her all the time.

"Any memories Elliot has of her aren't of an old woman dying in bed…" Christian pauses, a thought bringing a smile to his lips. He laughs to himself, recalling something, before letting me in on it too. "He used to tell me about her when we were younger… Because I never used to talk he'd just talk at me for hours. He'd tell me about how she always had candy for him and would give him toys… Then he would run and get his shoebox where he kept photographs of her, so he could show me them."

I smile too, visualising the two of them as children and how beautiful they must have looked together.

My smile fades as I look at Christian's chest sinking a little. I reach across with my hand and place it on his thigh. He jitters for a moment, adjusting to my touch. I don't look up at him, just cupping his leg gently for comfort.

There's only one photograph Christian owns of his life before Grace and Carrick: the picture of his birth mother.

"He still has her photographs. Most of them are framed in his apartment, but he always carries two in his wallet. He has since he was twelve, when Carrick gave him an old wallet of his."

"That's sweet that he has her pictures with him. She must mean a lot to him."

"She does." He nods his head. "He feels like he owes her a lot. By having her with him all the time he thinks that he's repaying her somehow… Like she'll know that he's always thinking of her."

I make to say something but Christian cuts in first. I pull back and let him continue - knowing that if I interrupt there's a good chance he'll stop altogether. The trick with Christian is to get him talking, because once the dam is broken everything flows smoothly and with ease. There's no holds barred once the gloves are off, and at the moment his palms are bare and defenceless.

"Elliot loves her dearly because she did so much for him. She looked after him as best she could after his parents died, and then she brought our parents to him… She gave him a family. A good family."

"She sounds like a beautiful person."

"You know, Elliot was the only family she had left too and she put him first. She made sure he had the best upbringing possible… After everything she only had two requests, that she saw him regularly and that he keep his name. Elliot Matthew."

"Elliot's middle name is Matthew?" I queried. Surprised. "I didn't know he had a middle name."

Christian cocks his head to me and affirms. "It was his birth name… Elliot was after his grandfather and Matthew after his father. It was a family name."

"I'm sure we can understand why she wanted that respected." I smile, running my hand across my stomach and Blip, gesturing to our chosen name for him. After Grace's father and Ray.

Christian smiles broadly, looking down at my bare stomach. He drops his hand and skims over the broadest part, running his hand protectively over us both.

"Indeed, I think we can." His grin beams at me, his eyes dazzling with thoughts of our son. "I would ask the same in her position –" his fingers circle my bump, "I know our parents would have adhered to her wishes anyway, not simply because it was in the contract… Ava meant a lot to them too."

"Ava?"

"Elliot's grandmother. Her name was Ava." He replies with his focus devoted to Blip.

I feel a flutter in my stomach, one much stronger than I've felt before but Christian doesn't react to it. _He didn't feel it, Blip. Not yet._

"Does Mia have a middle name? I know you haven't but –" I ask tentatively, bringing my other hand down to his to secure his hold on us. His fingers flex under mine as I ask him, twitching in distress.

"Yes. I'm the only one who doesn't." I look up to his face and notice the grimace. His jaw tics as he grinds his teeth together. "Her middle name is Aurore. It's French for dawn… They thought it suited it her when they saw the way I reacted with her. She was the light that woke me."

He pulls his hand from my body, letting to fall back to his thigh. I feel uncomfortable at his distance so I stretch across and take his hand in mine. His stills as I clasp my fingers around him. I freeze, not knowing what to do.

_He doesn't like it, does he?_ I ask myself, scared.

I shoot my eyes to him, searching for a clue for what my next move should be. Christian's head shakes from side to side, his hand relaxing in my grip. He brings his other to his face, rubbing it all over and disguising himself.

I try to distract him, turning attention to Mia. _She's his light._

"Mia was only a baby when she was adopted, wasn't she?" I ask softly, rubbing my thumb over his knuckles. I bring his hand to my lips, kissing each finger delicately.

"She was six months old." His reply is clipped and non-descriptive.

"Do you remember Mia's adoption? What happened to her?" I press him for more. I continue to kiss his hand, hoping not to disturb him and cause him to retreat. He doesn't, thankfully.

"Her adoption was the quickest. Grace and Carrick already had me and Elliot so they were preapproved, just in case they were to adopt again."

I hear a loud crack from the fireplace. I snap my head towards it, catching sight of a log breaking brutally from the heat. It doesn't fall from the place – guarded and held by the iron fixture protecting the flames from destroying everything in sight.

The scarlet waves are starting to wane considerably. They're no longer fierce and in control, now small and whimpering - crying out for help.

Christian's voice is surrendered to a mutter as I lose concentration, the flames entrancing. I force myself out of it, shaking my head and pulling back to him. I catch him mid-sentence.

"… She was just a teenager when she fell pregnant with Mia. Fifteen, or so… Carrick said her father was a pastor or something and furious when his daughter came home pregnant."

He turns his hand and takes clasp of mine, locking our fingers together. I feel a wave of relief at this – feeling my Christian for a minute and not a reflection of his previous self.

"From what we know she was disowned by her family. They didn't want the shame that it brought to their name so they kicked her out and let her fend for herself."

"On the streets?" I shriek. "She was only fifteen!"

"No, she was taken to a mother and child institute in Michigan. They have nurses and social workers there but she was alone bar them… Her family didn't bother to contact her for a long time, right up until she was a few weeks from full-term." With a squeeze Christian releases my hand – gently placing it down to rest on my thigh before letting go. "Her mother gave her an ultimatum, telling her that if she wanted to be a part of the family she had to give up the baby… Or she'd lose them forever."

"And she chose her family." I answer him, shaking my head in disbelief. "She gave up her daughter."

"She was a kid. How could she have looked after herself and a baby?" He retorts, evidently distasted at the idea of a knocked-up teen. "She made the right decision in the end. She gave Mia up so she could have a better start in life… It meant we got her. I got her."

I'm still not convinced but respect his gratitude for her mother's abandonment. I dread to think what would have happened to Christian if Mia wasn't adopted into the family.

"I remember the day she came home like it was yesterday." A flicker of a smile traces across his mouth. "She was so small and pink. Grace had her close to her chest, wrapped in a light pink blanket… She was shushing her quietly… I remember me and Elliot were in the family room when Grace came back with her… Carrick was at home with us and had already told us we were getting a baby sister… He made sure I knew what was happening. He knelt in front of me and explained it over and over."

I twist one-eighty on my behind, facing him squarely. Christian moves too, uncrossing his legs and pulling them up to his chest. He curls forward, bringing his forearms to rest on his knees.

I've never seen him sit so… infantile before. It worries me to the pit of my stomach. I want to caress him and hold him but I'm grounded.

"Elliot just wanted to play with his trucks. I can't blame him really. I liked playing with the trucks too… Besides he'd been through my adoption, another sibling wasn't a big thing for him."

"It was big for you." I defend him sympathetically. Mia will always be special to him.

"She was everything to me. She still is, in a way." He drops his head to rest his jaw on his arms. "From the first time I saw her I loved her. I loved how small she was. How innocent she was… I knew that she needed me to look after her. Elliot didn't need my help but Mia did. She needed protecting because she was small."

My heart starts to beat a little faster for him as his voice wavers. I want to snake around him and force him from his position, to make him sit more openly like me. I want to shield him and protect him. I want to be his iron fixture.

"I knew that I had to look after her. I had to make sure she was okay and not in pain… Not like I was… Fuck! Even as a kid I was fucking obsessed with caring for someone, wasn't I? I was fucked up even then!"

Christian's breathing has slowed, becoming laboured and hefty. I can almost see his chest pounding from heart palpitations. Either that or it's my own beating viciously for him.

"You know, I've always been envious of them." He admits angrily, the skin around his knuckles stretching harshly as he fists his hands. "I've always been jealous of my brother and sister. Jealous of what they had and what I didn't."

My ear drums pierce as he sucks in a quick breath, the sound debilitating. He expels it just as fast – pushing it out with a pain echoing from him. I sit forward in concern, quivering as he slams his eyelids shut to block everything out. It's like he's mechanically focusing on his thoughts.

He starts shaking, struggling to contain it.

I can't move… I can't tell him it's going to be okay… I can't hold him… I can't take his pain away. I'm stuck to the floor, every part of my body a complete deadweight.

"How much of a bastard does that make me?" Christian snaps, jerking his head back in ire. "How fucked up does that make me? I hated my own siblings because they were the lucky ones –" A sob bursts out from his lungs, ripping through his chest like a lion. "Elliot had his grandmother and she loved him enough to give him a new family… He was loved… Mia's mother gave her up… She loved her enough to give her up."

"Oh, Christian –"

I find the strength to edge forward, crawling onto all fours ready to make my way to him. His head jerks to me as I release a noise in my efforts and he scurries. Christian shuffles his way along the rest of the couch until his back reaches the open. His face is worried, almost scared of me reaching him. I feel like he's just punched me full-blown in the ribs.

_He's running away from me._

"Their memories aren't horrid and painful…" The first droplet falls from his eyes and he's quick in swiping it away with the back of his still fisted hand. "They didn't suffer… They didn't have someone beating them… Shoving cigarettes into them… I did… I did!"

Christian stabs his finger into his chest, pointing and pressuring hard to his scars. He bashes it into the same spot several times, his finger as rock hard as his concrete chest. His eyes are completely glassed over and troubled.

"I remember everything… _Everything_… Every burn, every belt… It all… _Every day_. I had to suffer every day."

"Baby…" My tears are streaming down my face, so fast I can't wipe them away quick enough. I plead with him, murmuring his name over and over, to let me touch him. He pulls his arms tighter around himself – barricading his body.

"She did that to me… I hate her so much –" A loud cry breaks free, as loud and coarse as a scream. "She… She did that to me… She didn't love me like Ava loved Elliot. She didn't give me up like Mia's mom. She was selfish and a bitch… Stupid fucking bitch!"

He throws his head back, yelling at the top of his lungs. He's shaking all over as he pushes it out of him.

It's a like a knife daggering straight into my heart, a devil on the other side of me with his palms flat on my back to hold me in place – to stop me from squirming away from the tight, throbbing agony.

"Christ-"

"She didn't care. She just let me suffer… She didn't give a fuck. She just put herself first, the fucking crack whore… I was a kid. _Just a kid._"

He smacks his head into his arms. He begins to push forward and back on his behind, letting his cries escape him without control. Each sob twists my stomach, like someone's reached right through and is tugging on every fragment of me. My own tears mirror his, blurring my sight and leaving just a rocking mess in front of me.

I would gladly take a bullet if I could. I would take this bullet for him. I would take a bullet to my brain and allow someone to slice my throat if it meant I could save him.

"I hate her… I just want to forget. I wish I could forget her and her fucking pimp and the cigarettes… _Why?_ Why couldn't she love me?"

I break.

I ignore every signal he's shot at me, the gap he's forced between us and the numbness spread over my body. I launch forward and around him. I fold my arms around him, tugging him into my body. I feel him flinch as my skin touches his but I shoot it down, clinging to him.

He explodes brutally, barking into me with an unhinged force. It pushes me backwards, knocking me to my behind and carrying him with me. My behind bashes the floor painfully but the weight of Christian pushing into my chest distracts me from it. I have to flick my legs out and around his body, allowing him to sit as close to me as possible so I can swaddle him in my arms.

I yank his head to my chest. The tears bursting from him start to pour down my front, drenching my skin in his sadness. My own sticky tears drip and begin to soak his hair, simply adding to the problem.

"Fucking bitch!" Christian shouts this repetitively.

I slam my eyes shut, wincing every time he makes a sound. I bite down on my lip, pressing in so hard that I can already taste the metal merging into my mouth. I have to, to stop me from screaming out with his torture too. I crush him to me, one hand on his shoulder and the other on the side of his head, near his temple.

"Ana…" He sobs my name, stammering it like a young child. "Ana she's taking you from me… She's breaking us… Ruining it… I can't Ana, I can't let you go."

Stiffening, I bring both of my hands to his either side of his face and I try to lift him up to me but he's resistant, desperate to shield himself.

"Everything. She's always ruined everything." He sucks in a breath, hiccupping it weightily. With each bouncing intake he crushes my front, knocking me off balance. "She'll ruin everything for us. I know she will. She'll ruin us, Ana… She'll make you go."

_Huh?_

My brows come together over my eyes with my jaw falling fast. I use all of my strength to tear his head from my front, pulling his face upward to mine so I can look at him.

I stare down at him, tracing his face slowly. His eyes are red-rimmed and full of water, making him blink away the sharpish frequently. His cheeks are tear-stricken – jagged white lines dripping down his face. They feel sticky too, and are an unfamiliar flushed colour. His heart is shredding to pieces in my arms as he has to fight for each crude breath.

I shush him, smudging away the waters with my thumbs but it's a pointless task – the ones I banish being replaced just as quick. I look up sharply, cursing myself to stop crying. I need him to calm and my own out-pour isn't helping.

"Christian, no –" I cast down to him, shaking my head gently. "Christian, no one is going to break us up. Why would you think that way?"

He doesn't answer me. He just looks up, doe-eyed.

I stare him out until it forces an answer from him. His lip wobbles as he gulps his way through communication.

"She did before. She's already done it… You've left me before. She caused that. Ana, she made you leave me."

"What are you talking about? No one has made me leave you… Who are you –"

"That whore…" Christian whispers, his tears stopping for a moment. "_The crack whore_."

A bolt sears through me, my fingers tightening their hold on his head. I feel like they might crush his skull and I think about letting him go, but my fingers are glued to him, unmoving. My eyelids collapse, my brain starting to shut down in response.

_I've never… She's never been the reason why…_

I babble a few incoherent noises, eventually stumbling upon something English. I beg him why he thinks his birth mother has something to do with that… With my mistake. _My big mistake_.

"Because you left me… I-I was alone for days because I hurt you. Five days without you… I hurt you and then you left me… I hurt you because of her. Because we were in that room…" His voice is strange and crumbling. "Then you left me again. I hurt you again because I lied to you… I kept lying to you… I couldn't open… She made me that way. She did that."

"No… Christian, no –" I protest profusely. "I did that myself –"

He abruptly shifts to his knees, his hands snapping and moving fast to clamp his fingers around my shoulders. They start to dig in hard.

My eyes are stuck on his, the water disappearing and offering something I don't recognise. I twitch as he brings his head incredibly close to mine. My hands slip from his face, coming to a halt in the gap between my chest and his.

"Ana, it was her… I hurt you in the playroom because I couldn't control it. I took you in there… I wanted you in there because you look like her… Because that room's about her, it's always been about her."

I jolt my head from side to side. "I didn't safeword. It was me. It wasn't your fault." I try to defend him but it falls on deaf ears. He shakes his head back at me and encroaches further. His forehead just inches from mine and his eyes piercing into me, to my soul.

"Please, don't make me… Ana, please… I can't…"

As he blinks the tears return, running thick and fast. He screams a throat burning howl in my face, the only thing keeping me here are his solid hands tunnelling into my skin.

"Ana, I can't… I'm scared… I can't let do that…"

He shakes me once, pulling me into him further. His lips smack to my forehead. I try to move but he's trapped me, keeping me close to him so I can't shift away or even look at him.

_He won't let me see him. He won't let me..._

My heart is burning and pounding scarily fast. I can feel it in my temples, my throat… _God, it hurts…_

"Christian, don't…" I beg him. "You don't have to be scared. You haven't got anything to be scared of."

"I can't, Ana. I can't let myself do that to you… Not again."

"Do what? You haven't done anything!" I want to shout at him but I can barely stammer a whisper.

"I won't hurt you again. Not because of her… I'll kill myself before I do that to you again." Christian taunts, my arms become agony under his touch. "You'll leave if I hurt you. You've done it before. You've left me when I've hurt you before… I can't live without you. I can't do it without you."

"No…" I breathe, knocking my head away from him. I break free of his face and angle my neck so I can see him. "That's why you're scared?"

He nods.

"You think you're going to hurt me?"

"That I'll want to hurt you." He corrects me, his reply cutting deep. "What if I look at you and I see her, not my Ana? What if I see you with our baby and I think he's me? I won't stop… I won't be able stop… I'll hurt you because I'll want to… Because you'll be in there. In that room… Please, don't make me take you in there. Please?"

I stutter.

"Please, don't make me… I can't take you in there. I can't risk it, Ana."

"I'm not… I'm not making you. I'm not making you do anything." I reply quickly.

"Ana you were upset with me… I wanted to tell you. I did. I promise… I can't take you in that room… If I take you in that room I'll see her, not you… That room is because of her… Every girl... Because they look like her."

Everything floods back to the front of my mind.

_I'm a sadist, Ana. I like to whip little brown-haired girls like you because you all look like the crack whore… My birth mother._

_I've upset you so many times, more than I can even recount… Ana, baby, I never wanted to hurt you._

_I never want to hurt you. I never want to cause you any pain… It's my worst nightmare. I couldn't live myself if I did that to you._

"I don't want to go in there. I don't want to hurt you. I can't risk it Ana… I can't let you walk again."

Christian drops on his knees, falling into my front with his head collapsing to my shoulder. His hands let go of my arms, allowing me to throw mine around him as he tumbles into me, using me as his core stability.

I cradle him in my arms, cupping the back of his head to me with my other hand running all over his back. I shush him, muttering through his cries. I hold him tight to me.

I'm not letting go.

I want to crawl under his skin to warm him from the inside out and to dull all the pain that's taking over him. If I could take it away I would.

"Please, Ana… Don't leave me… It hurts too much." Christian begs me, pushing his arms around my back to cling onto me. His head falls to lie against my chest.

I caress his face with my hand, stroking his cheek and pressing him into heart. His cries deepen and become utterly uncontrollable.

I start to rock him gently from side to side, my hands on him soft and gentle – his grappling and digging into my back in an attempt to keep hold of me… He's desperate not to let go.

"I'm not leaving… I'm never leaving you. Never again… _Never_."

I tell him over and over until I lose my voice to a sob.

I kept him in my arms, refusing to let go.

Christian cried until the fire died out and he fell asleep from exhaustion.


	73. Chapter 73

**Disclaimer: The majority of the characters that are portrayed in this story are those that pertain to the Fifty Shades trilogy by E L James. These characters remain her sole property respectively. The plots and themes explored in this story are those of the author, infamouschelsea. The author is in no way affiliated with James and/or the publishing corporation which produced the original works. Any recognisable brands, places or persons used in the story are the sole property of their respected owners and are not the property of the author. No copyright infringement is intended.**

**Hi guys!**

**Thank you so much for your reviews on the last chapter! I'm so happy to see that everything came across the way I hoped it would! To know that the reveal wasn't some obscure, unrealistic issue is great. I'm still working hard to try and write this story in canon to the trilogy, while developing the characters. It's great to know that you still think that this is good enough to continue reading!**

**Ellie - I was a wreck writing that chapter. I almost felt guilty for putting it out there for you all! It was a love/hate situation to write, but hopefully it was the right choice to make in the end :) Thank you! x**

**LA - That's fantastic to hear! :) Keeping in line with the original books and characters is a big thing for me. To know I'm doing that, in your opinion, is absolutely amazing! Thank you! x**

**Nikki - Thank you! I'm glad you liked the nod to 'Ava'! :) I've been toying with that for a while. End of kinky F*ckery? Hmmm... ;) x**

**Guests 1, 2 and 3 - Thank you! I'm glad you all liked it! :) x**

**MX - Thank you! I needed a way to get Christian talking, that naturally led to his reveal - hence the adoptions backstory :) I'm glad you liked it! I loved experimenting with the possible outcomes. Much Love! x**

**Okay, so I thought this was going to be a bit shorter that it's turned out but seeing as I don't know how quickly I'll be able to update - I have a beast of an assignment to write so I need to focus on that instead of Grey dramatics! - I thought I'd give you something a little longer to tide you over. Thanks again for your amazing support and feedback. I hope you like this update.**

**Much Love and Happy Readings,**

**Chelsea x**

* * *

With my arms folded around myself I tug my bathrobe into place.

There's a sharp crispness in the air whispering through the cottage, its touch igniting goosebumps over my skin. It feels like there's a draught somewhere but I know all of the windows are shut. It's probably just me. The heating isn't due to turn on for a few more hours, but I haven't the will or mind to try and override the programming. I shrug it off. It isn't the end of the world – I don't mind the cold too much, or at least right this second I don't. If anything, I welcome the numbness it causes. It kind of makes sense for the outside of my body to feel the same as the inside.

I'm still as I stand at the end of the bed, my feet weighted heavily into the floor as if all the blood in my body has pooled into my legs to try and keep me vertical. This is probably a good thing, considering the way I feel right now, but it's made every movement exhausting. When I've found the energy to move it's like I'm trudging through mud, unable to lift my feet to walk and having to shuffle from one step to another instead. My eyes are the only part of me able to move freely and without suffering, but they've been focused on Christian as he sleeps in front of me.

Christian let his terrors overwhelm him well into the early hours of the morning. He was loud, sobbing and screaming out every now and then. I had no grasp of time, gauging it on the dying out of the fire and the last remaining candles. When all the light was finally sucked from the room, plunging us into complete darkness, his cries disappeared into the night. I felt him fall lax against me, slipping into a reticent sleep.

His head lowered down my chest. He was still sitting between my legs, his arms coiled around my sides with his chin then resting on the top of my bump. I was trapped, crushed between him and the couch. His fingers locked together in the middle of spine and his entire weight pushed into me. I couldn't move even if I wanted to.

I continued to rock him on the spot, cradling him gently. I stroked his face and back with my fingertips while I hummed to him. My voice really isn't the best, whether singing or humming, but it didn't matter. Nothing mattered.

I stilled when I felt him fuss against me. He whimpered and rubbed his cheek in between my breasts, his arms tightening around my sides. He muttered something and then settled, resuming his silent self. Leaning to my right I moved to look down at him, checking he was okay. I scooped his hair out of his eyes, finding a grimace spread over his face. They were clamped down, spiriting lines away from them, and his lips were puckered and white. Seeing this I rocked him a little harder, hoping it would fade and he would soften into my cherub once more, but I couldn't look down for fear it wouldn't.

Feeling and hearing him groan a few times told me that I needed to get him upstairs and into bed. Sleeping like in that position wasn't great for either of us. I shuffled on my behind to test my strength, realising I wouldn't be able to move with him on me and towering his whole weight into my front. It killed me to wake him, having to think only of the result as a means to push myself to stir him. I spoke calmly, repeating his name a few times while stroking my fingertips down his face. He didn't react straightaway – a few mutterings of his name later and he moaned, blinking his eyes open and nodding his head in agreement with my desires to get him to bed.

I had to support him as we took to the stairs, taking one of his hands in my right with my other in the small of his spine reinforcing his core. It took us a while to climb them, Christian dragging his feet up the eleven steps. When we reached the edge of the bed he collapsed onto it. I swear he was asleep before we got there, rolling straight onto the covers and nuzzling his head into what had been my pillow. Christian settled in the middle of the bed, his arms and legs moving all around the place. I urged him to get under the covers but he was gone, oblivious to my noise. I tugged one of the sheets from under him, draping it around his body. I managed to tuck him in but he was quick to kick it off as soon as I stepped away. He lay naked, refusing any kind of restraint.

I tried to lie down next to him, thinking that he might need with him but he didn't. Every time I made contact with him, whether I was slipping my fingers through his hair or something as simple as my leg skimming against his, he groaned loudly and thrashed until I moved. I wanted nothing more than to cocoon myself around him, to soak up his pain like I had earlier, but we'd taken a huge step backwards. I was sent straight back to square one – _no touching._

He moved around so much, bouncing around and shuffling to different areas of the bed. It was clear I wasn't going to get any sleep but I already knew I wouldn't be able to drift off - I had too many things playing out in my head. I started off mirroring him and moving around what little space I was allowed, to avoid making contact. The only place I was safe was right at the end of the bed, just a small spot where I could curl into a ball knowing he wouldn't move this far down. For obvious reasons I couldn't stay that way so I got up and walked around for a little while, ending up in the bathroom and running a bath.

I look down at him once more, walking away silently and moving back into the bathroom to knock off the faucet before I flood the place. I push the door to a close, leaving it open ajar so I can listen out for him – I'll need to be able to hear him if he calls for me.

The cottage is still plunged into darkness - the sun hasn't properly risen yet. I leave the light off in the bathroom, knowing that if I have it on with the door open it will disturb him. While I was downstairs earlier, fetching a glass of water, I grabbed a few candles and matches. I've dotted them around the faucet end of the tub. They won't be enough to light up the room fully, but at least I'll be able to see what I'm doing without causing a nuisance! After last night Christian needs as much rest as he can get.

Hitting off the water I test the temperature, making sure I've added just enough cold. I haven't added anything to it, leaving it plain because I only plan on being in it for a little while. Even though I can't have hot baths anymore I find that being in a lukewarm one for more than ten minutes makes me feel lightheaded and nauseous. I plan on asking Grace, when I can, if this is normal – preferably when Christian isn't around.

I begin to shrug my robe off, letting it fall to the floor. I hesitate to look ahead of me, worried to stare into the mirror and find damage from last night painted on my skin. I force myself to check, creeping closer to it and having to twist my neck so I can examine the back of my arms.

"Thank God…" I breathe, relived to find only a few red circles on either arm. No bruising in sight, yet.

_Please, do not bruise._ I pray. _Please, don't do this to him. It'll kill him._

I press my palms into the tiled wall, steadying myself as I climb into the water. I lower myself slowly, each step calculated and defensive. The water stings at first, the warm penetrating through the numbness. I lean back when my behind meets the porcelain, lying down and letting it all wash over me as best it can. This tub is way too small, even for just me in it, so I have to bend my knees to lie down properly.

Placing both feet flat on the base of the tub I slip down the length of the bath, shuffling to the end so I can submerge myself completely under the water. I suck in a long breath just before I go under, closing my eyes as I feel the water rise against my temples. I push my head down until it hits the bottom, releasing my breath and pain.

* * *

After quickly washing myself and my hair I heaved myself from the water. I gripped the rim of the tub so I could force myself up, pushing a lot of weight into my hands hoping to make this an easy transition.

It's been so long since I helped myself from the water. For so long I've been forced into waiting for Christian to extend a hand to me, usually waiting for him to get out of the tub first. That's one thing I've really missed about home: being able to share a bath with him.

I dry off fairly fast, shrugging into a light pink sweater and a pair of dark jeans. I picked them up from floor on my way into the bathroom, limited in the choices open to me. A lot of our things are already packed into suitcases, ready for our flight back home today. Last night's events are overshadowing everything else right now, but I really have loved this trip even if I'm counting down until we're home and can make a start on getting life back to some sort of normality.

Tying my hair into a ponytail I creep out of the bathroom, tiptoeing passed Christian on my way to the stairs. I check on him for a second, making sure he's okay. He's curled into a ball near the headboard. His knees are high toward his chest with his arms clutching a pillow to him tightly. I reach out to run my fingers through his hair, pulling back instantly knowing he'll grumble at my touch. He looks relatively peaceful, his chest rising and falling in a slow and quiet pace. I leave him in peace, heading downstairs to let him sleep soundly.

I find myself in the kitchen, trying to make myself a fresh cup of tea and deciding whether I can handle food right now. Opening up several of the cabinets and the fridge doesn't help, my insides swimming as I scan over the various foods. I pull out the ingredients for an omelette, setting them aside for Christian's breakfast when he wakes up. I line them and stare at them for a few seconds before the familiar burning sensation rises into my throat, Blip screaming out to me.

_No food for Mommy and Blip. Not yet._

Finishing up my tea I push away the flour and eggs, shoving them to the back of the counter. I've run out of Twinings, finding a different box in the cabinet where my favourites were. I don't recognise the brand but I'll stomach it anyway, adding a spoonful of sweetener to settle my shaky insides.

Throwing away the bag I wrap my hands around the piping hot cup and walk out into the living room still covered in remnants of last night. At least it still smells as pleasant, the hint of roses wafting each time I move passed them. I look all around the room, thinking about how quickly things soured after a lovely day together. I glance around and wonder about heading upstairs to sit with Christian but I'm routed to the spot, staring at the front door – _my exit_.

I stand there fixated on it, noticing that the keys are still in the lock. Christian must have forgotten to remove them when we got back, but it's not something to be concerned over – we're in the middle of nowhere and security are literally two seconds away, if we need them. Plus, I have Christian. I know he'd never allow anything to happen to me… That's part of the problem. All that he's ever wanted to do is protect me. I know he'd never hurt me, physically at least, and I'm not scared of him. I'm scared of what this is doing to him. I'm scared he'll do something crazy in a desperate attempt to keep me safe. Possibilities flutter through my mind, searing through quickly and in a distorted manner.

My biggest worry is that he'll leave – that he'll think that's the only way to prevent anything from happening.

Everything's just a big mess, all tangled up and indistinguishable. How the hell can I get us through this one?

I pick up my feet and shuffle to the door. Shifting the cup into my right hand I grab the handle with my left, flicking the key and opening the door.

Opening it I'm struck with a stinging breeze. The wind's swirling around, lifting leaves and debris and pushing it up through the air so it can fly away. The cold out here overpowers the minor draught I felt inside. I purse my lips, breathing out a hard and warm breath that's fogging out into a misty cloud ahead of me.

I step out onto the porch and drop to my behind as I meet the edge of the stoop. The concrete is hard and uncomfortable under my butt, but the view and clearer air makes up for it. I sit with my knees together, my cup resting on them. I watch as the steam is blown away, the direction shifting with the travelling flurry. My mind follows suit, allowing flashbacks from last night enter and play out in front of me, reliving every minor detail in slow motion. I try closing my eyes, hoping they'll shoo away quickly but they don't. If anything, the visuals are a hundred times worse… Shockingly fresh, as if it happened five seconds ago.

I start to feel as if it's washing away after taking several deep breaths, my senses shooting to life as I hear a crunch coming from the side of me.

I still as it progresses rhythmically. My fingers tighten around my cup, my head slowly revolving toward the noise. I have to force myself to open my eyes, flicking just one open at first as if that'll help things.

I push out the breath I was holding as I see Travis appearing from down the side of our cottage.

His head is down and both his hands are fisted in the front pockets of his jeans. His shoulders are raised, high up near his face with his breath misting like mine. He strolls forward, verging off slightly as if he's sticking to a circular perimeter. I remain silent as he walks, not wanting to scare him. I watch as he glances briefly over to where I am, his body coming to a complete stop – hitting an invisible wall. He looks directly at me, perplexed. He twists on the spot, looking all around him before speaking out to me.

"Mrs Grey? Ma'am, is everything okay?"

I nod to him, dropping my eyes to my cup before lifting it to my lips for a sip. I look up only as I see him approaching me, coming to stand just a few feet away from the porch.

"Are you sure?" Travis presses again, his green eyes looking me up and down. "Only, there was a lot of… _Noise_ coming from your cottage early this morning… _Very_ early this morning."

I gulp down my tea, shaking my head. I make to say something, to shrug it off, but he rambles further. He's hesitant as he talks to me, a stutter hidden in his voice. Looking at him I come to think he's a few years younger than me, or at least he looks like he is. He looks about twelve.

"You see ma'am, I was doing the two-four walk around this morning when I heard a commotion… I checked all around the building. I came up to your door and figured it was coming from inside."

"Everything's fine." I tell him quickly, trying to cut off the conversation. It doesn't work.

"Mrs Grey, there was… _Screaming_… And some shouts, too."

He gulps hard, tugging a hand out from his pocket and lifting it to his face so he can scratch his jaw. His head drops to the floor, looking down at his feet as he shuffles backwards to broaden the gap between us.

"Everything is fine," I tell him again. I tear my eyes away as I prep myself for the words about to escape my mouth. "We just got a little carried away…"

"What?"

I snort at his obliviousness. I know I'm fibbing, but seriously?

I arch my eyebrow with suggestion, my glance alluding to more intimate activities between husband and wife, and my intended meaning. His mouth falls open, a light bulb flicking on above his head. His cheeks flare fire truck red as he stumbles on his feet. He jerks his face from me, apologising.

"Oh my God, ma'am, I'm so sorry. I-I didn't –"

"It's okay." I muster a smile and lift my palm up to him, shaking it as I struggle to my feet. I smile at his reaction. I'd rather him think Christian and I were simply doing it all night than know what was actually happening behind closed doors.

Travis mumbles something in return but I don't catch it. I ignore him and let him get back to whatever he was doing, heading inside. I hear him mention something about our flight being scheduled for a 4PM take-off, and I nod my head before shutting the door. I lock it and fall backward against it, propping myself there for a second.

"ANA!"

A juddering scream fires through the house, bellowing down from upstairs.

I snap my head to the staircase.

"NO… ANA, DON'T… PLEASE!"

_Oh God, no_.

I hear several thuds, Christian's groans deepening as he thrashes around.

I run to the stairs, grappling the handrail and firing up them two at time. I curse my feet for not moving quick enough. As I hit the top stair I see him writhing in the middle of the bed. His back is arched and lifted from the mattress, his head jerking from side to side in the midst of his terror.

I pound over to him, plonking myself on the edge of bed and reaching over. His skin is cold and sweaty as I take a hold of his arm. I speak to him slowly but sternly, repeating his name over and over to draw him out of it.

He sinks into the bed, his eyelids shooting open with a start as he sucks in a needed breath. I tell him it's okay and that it was just a nightmare, running my hand over his chest and feeling his heart pounding hard and fast. _Too fast_.

"It's okay…"

"You're… You're still here?" Christian's chest whimpers. "You're here?"

"Where else would I be?" I shush him, shuffling nearer. He sits up straight, allowing me to edge closer. I smile softly, meeting his side and dipping my head to his shoulder. I press my lips lightly to his clammy skin.

"Ana… Last night –"

"It's okay."

"No, it's not. I shouldn't have loaded you with my shit… You shouldn't have to put up with that." He shakes his head, pushing his fingers up to his floppy hair to shove it out of his face and to hide away.

"Christian, don't ever think that you're loading me with shit… Please, don't think that I see it that way, because I don't. You mean a lot to me and so do your thoughts and feelings. It's not shit to me."

I lift my fingers to his chin, tracing his jaw and urging his face to me. His eyes stammer to mine jaggedly, hesitating. I shake my head with a sympathetic smile.

"Where do we go from here?" Christian questions noiselessly, "- now that you know?"

"I don't know... But we'll get through this. I know we will. We always do." I push forward and bring my lips to his, pressing them together with only mine reacting. "I promise you we'll get through this."

"How?"

"We just need to take it one step at a time… "

* * *

"Home, sweet home."

I mumble to myself as I step into our hallway, breathing in the familiar scent of our home: the strange, but comforting mix of Gail's kitchen miracles and our favourite brand of fabric softener. I feel Christian enter behind me, dropping the last of our luggage to floor before turning to close the door behind us.

Our flight home was quiet and peaceful. Unlike our outward flight there wasn't an annoying flight attendant, there was no turbulence or any kind of drama, period. It was pretty straightforward and stoic. After about an hour in the air we tucked into a small meal before retiring to our private cabin, where we curled up and slept for most of the ten hour flight home. I didn't realise quite how tired I was until I saw that small bed. I fell asleep as soon as my head touched the pillow.

When we touched down at Sea-Tac one of our SUV's was ready and waiting for us – Taylor had dropped it off earlier today, ready for either Ryan or Reynolds to drive us home and back to reality.

"Welcome home."

Christian whispers to me, slipping his arms under mine and pulling my back into his chest. His lips press lightly to that spot right behind my ear before trailing down the length of my neck, until his chin settles on my shoulder.

"It's good to be home."

"Back where you belong."

I don't reply to his remark. I feel a wave of guilt spread over me, still embarrassed. I dip my head lower, nodding softly in agreement. He doesn't say anything else on the matter, simply shrugging against me as if he's brushing it off. It's in the past.

"I'm going to take our things upstairs." He tells me, releasing me and stepping away from my body. "I'll ask Gail to help unpack the suitcases tomorrow. There's a lot of laundry that'll need doing."

"I can do the laundry. It's not a problem."

"I pay Gail to do it. It's her job." He replies, cutting off the discussion in a swift statement.

He lifts up our things easily, spreading the weight equally between both hands. I stare after him as he manoeuvres through the hall and the staircase, where he takes them with ease and control. I rock back and forth on the spot, assessing my next move.

I pause and wait until I hear him reach our bedroom – waiting for the sound of the suitcases being place on the floor – before I quickly chase off down the length of the hallway, down to my home office.

I try and keep the noise to a minimum as I open the door and make my way in there. I don't bother to switch on the light, instead tiptoeing over to my desk and planting myself into my chair. I start to rummage through the various drawers, hunting down my cell phone and finding it in the top right. I also stumble across a stack of unedited first chapters from potential clients. I grumble and make a mental to make a start on them soon.

Switching on my cell I immediately open up my contacts, scrolling through the list until I find the one I want. I decide not to call from my cell, instead stretching across and taking the phone next to my computer and punching the number into that. I check the number twice before bringing the receiver to my ear. It was answered after six impatient rings.

"Hello?"

A breathy and rushed voice answers. I stutter, startled by the tone. It takes me a second before I can stammer something audible.

"Erm… Hi, it's Ana… Ana Grey." I clarify.

"Oh…" Surprise hits the voice on the other side. "Ana, it's nice to hear from you. How are you?"

"I'm not sure." I answer honestly, pushing my hand up through my hair in a Christian Grey manner. Sitting forward I prop my elbow on the edge of the desk, resting my head on my hand. I catch a glimpse of the time on my cell, 7:23PM. "Err… I know it's getting late, but –"

"Is something wrong?"

"Are you free?"

"Now? Well, I was just getting ready to leave but –"

"It's not for me." I cut in quickly. "It's for Christian. He needs help… I don't know what to do."

"Come down when you're ready. I'll leave the door unlocked for you both."

"We'll be there soon."

"See you shortly."

I put down the receiver after saying my hushed thanks. Sitting back in my chair I push both hands to my face, covering my eyes. I start to question if I'm doing the right thing.

_He needs help. We both do._

Hearing a noise from around the house I leap up from my chair, leaving everything as it is and making my way out of the room. I practically jog out of the door, allowing it to slam to a close behind me as I rush through the hall. I manage to reach the stairs just as Christian hits the bottom. He's in just his t-shirt and jeans, leaving his leather jacket upstairs.

"Are you okay?" He lifts his hands to my cheek, tracing it with the backs of his fingers. "Are you tired?"

"No, not really…" I bluff. I'm beat and in need of a shower, but I have something I need to take care of first. "I'm hungry."

"Oh… What do you want? There's meals in the freezer –"

"I could kill for a big mac right about now." I jump in, twisting my fingers in front of me. "I think Blip's craving it."

A smile spreads over his lips and he drops his hand to rest on my stomach. He rubs my bump a few times before turning on his heel, climbing the stairs again.

"I'll get my jacket and the car keys."

"Can I drive?" I call up behind him. I take his lack of reply as his answer.

* * *

"Ana, you know you've missed our exit, right?"

Twisting my head to the right my eyes meet Christian's. His body is almost completely turned inward to face me as he slumps into his chair casually. His lips are wrapped around the straw to his medium Coke, sucking up the last of his drink. I feel everything south quiver at the sight of him this way. How can he turn me on by just slurping from a straw? I shake my head and snap my face forward again, staring out of the windscreen and out to the road ahead of us. I force myself to keep my head centred.

_Just don't look at him!_ My subconscious whines at me from the hood of the car. _Get a grip, woman! It's just a freakin' straw!_

I agree with her, refusing to look at him if possible. I know that I'll crumble if I do. I always crumble, even when I'm mad at him. I can't help it. I can't stay angry at him for long. Christian knows this too, and he uses it to his advantage incessantly.

He presses me again, repeating his question. I roll my eyes to my side window, grinding my teeth together in preparation to spill out a lie to him.

"Yeah, I know… I realised as I passed it."

"Then you know that you've just drove straight passed the next one too?" He retorts, hiccupping as he finishes his drink. He leans forward and places the cup into one of the holder's between us. "Seriously Ana, anyone would think you don't want to go home."

"Well… Can you blame me?" I mumble, thinking on my feet. "I haven't been allowed to drive my car in so long. I just want to make the most of it before I'm too big to fit in it… I haven't had a lot of opportunities to drive recently."

"Ana, we've been through this. I've already compromised on the matter." Christian's voice shifts into his lecture tone. It's one I've become very familiar with in our time together. I flex my fingers around the steering wheel as he starts. I have to fight off the urge to roll my eyes at him. "If you want to drive then all I ask is that you have someone with you. I don't like the thought of you stranded somewhere, on your own… Especially in your condition."

"And what condition am I in?" I snap my head back to him, narrowing my eyes. He doesn't answer straightaway so I fire first. "I'm pregnant Christian, not sick. I don't have a condition."

His hands shoot up in defence. He apologises instantly. I soften and return the favour, cursing hormones in the process. We both shuffle in our seats, turning to face forward. We release a long sigh simultaneously as I pull off at the next exit.

After taking a few turnings I start to wonder if I've come the right way, or if I'm just driving around in circles. I'm going off memory – a very faint and fleeting memory from my previous visit here. I slouch around the wheel as I try to look out for any feature I can work off and gauge where I am. I start to slow the car down as I take a right turn, heading down a street laden with small buildings.

Christian copies my stance, leaning forward in his seat and searching too. Although, he doesn't know what I'm looking for or where I intend to take us.

_Gotcha!_

A light bulb blinks to life above my head as I recognise the very small building on our left. It's dark and the streetlights aren't making a difference, but it's familiar nonetheless. I remember coming here with Christian right after he proposed to me, back in June. I remember him pulling the car into the lot, prepping me for our session. I gave him my answer before we went in, telling him he couldn't open the box until his birthday.

Switching off the engine I unbuckle my seatbelt, peeling it away from my body and letting it whiz back into its normal place. I slump back into my seat. I can already feel his eyes boring a hole into the side of my head.

I risk a glance from the corner of my eye, wondering how bad his expression is right now. I wish I hadn't bothered. I watch as he sits forward in his seat, stretching toward the windscreen and scowling out to the building ahead of us. The front windows are closed off with vertical blinds drawn on the inside, but the yellow tinge still blares out between them. It's the only building with an occupant still there.

Christian turns his head to me, slowly. Incredibly slow. I feel his eyes narrowing at me in questioning. I draw in a hesitant breath, shutting my eyes and mentally preparing myself for his reaction. I should've known he wouldn't be happy about this.

"What are we doing here?"

He doesn't give me time to answer him. He rephrases his question, expressing it more coldly this time.

"Anastasia, why are we at Flynn's office?"

"Christian –"

"Why did you bring us here?"

"We need help." I confess to him.

I finally open my eyes. I look over to him, keeping my eyes thin hoping that if the sight's blurry his scowl won't be as severe. My hopes were in vain.

"I need help."

Christian corrects me before huffing and jumping out of the car. He slams the door behind him, causing the whole car to jolt from the force. I hitch my shoulders up in surprise, watching him storm away. Thankfully he's heading straight into Flynn's building, but he's shaking his head forcefully as he walks. He's undoubtedly cursing me at the same time.

I take a breath before joining him, exiting the car slowly and entering the building. He's propped up against the reception desk, his arms folded in front of him and his head facing anywhere but me.

The waiting room is empty, as expected. I glance around as I make my way toward Christian, noticing that Flynn's office door is shut. As I meet his side he jerks his head away from me, tutting to himself. I move to stand directly in front of him, in a place where he can't ignore me. Mirroring him I cross my arms around myself.

"Christian, please don't be mad at me. I didn't do this to –"

"_Mad?_" He repeats, tossing his head back. "You think I'm mad at you?" I nod, "no, I'm not mad."

"I only brought us here because… Because… We need help. We need Flynn to help us."

"No Ana, we're not the problem here. I am… This isn't your problem."

"Bullshit!" I curse loudly. I hear it echo around the bare room and I blush. I drop my voice to a whisper. "Christian, when you told me… When you told me what's been bothering you recently, you made it pretty damn clear that this affects me too. It's about me… It's about me and her."

"Ana –"

"We are in this together." I tell him sternly. I carry on before he has the chance to cut in. "What hurts you hurts me. If you're upset over something, then so am I." Stepping forward I move into his chest, opening my arms and wrapping them around him. "You're a part of me."

He cowers and slumps around me, opening his arms too and slipping them around my back. He nuzzles his head into the crook of my neck as he hugs me.

"I can't do this…" He breathes into my ear. The terror in his voice is unavoidable.

"Shhh… It's okay." I start to rub his lower back with my palms, comforting him. "Everything's going to be okay… Baby, I know you're scared."

"I've missed appointments… I've missed a lot of appointments, Ana."

I nod my head against him, squeezing him hard. I decide it's better to not tell him that Flynn already told me that on the night of the benefit for the children's hospital.

"You can do this."

"I don't think I can… Ana -"

"You've just got to be brave… All you have to do is take one tiny step forward. That's the hardest part. You just need to be my brave Christian right now." I feel him starting to shake, "I'm right here with you baby. I'll be here every step of the way. I promise you."

I hear the click of the door opening behind us. Christian nods his head briefly before releasing his hold of me and lifting his head towards the noise. I turn too and see Flynn standing in his doorway. His dark green tie is hanging low around his neck with the top button of his shirt undone. He looks almost as drained as Christian, but he still manages to conjure a welcoming smile for us both.

"Ana… Christian. It's great to see you both."

He comes at us, extending his hand and taking mine first. He holds out for Christian and it takes him a few seconds to respond, a nudge from my elbow awaking him.

"Go on through," Flynn gestures to his office. "Go and make yourself comfortable."

I loosen my fingers in Christian's hand, squeezing him for a second before slipping my fingers from his. I smile up at him, nodding my head in confirmation that he can do this. I know he can do this. He doesn't return my smile.

"I'll be right here when you're done. I won't move a muscle, I swear!"

He twists his face, confused. "You're not coming in with me?"

I shake my head. "Do you want me to come in with you?"

His mouth twitches.

"That's what I thought… Christian, I know that there are things you need to talk about and that you'll find it easier if I'm not there with you... I know you don't want me to hear certain things, but that's okay!"

"Really?"

"Absolutely." I flash my teeth, coiling my hands around his again. "I've been stupid and insensitive. I've pushed you too far and too fast to get you to be open and honest with me. I should've known that you need to take things slow. I'm sorry, Christian… Baby, from now on we're going to do this at your pace."

Flynn clears his throat behind us. Both Christian and I jerk our heads to him, an uncomfortable smile lingering on his lips. He nods his head and walks slowly over to his door, waiting for Christian to join him.

"If you need me all you have to do is ask. I'll be right there –" I gesture to one of the padded chairs on the other end of the room, "waiting for you."

"You won't go anywhere?"

"Nope… You can glue my ass to the seat if you need to!" Rising up onto my toes I press my lips to his, kissing him gently before telling him he can do this once more. "Take as much time as you need. I don't care how long it takes, how many sessions you want… I'll be here for it all."

"I really do love you."

Christian turns his back to me, shuffling across the floor to Flynn. His shoulders drop as he releases a sigh. He walks straight past Flynn, who pats him on the shoulder as he enters the office.

I chew down on the inside of my mouth as he disappears, lifting my eyes to meet Flynn's as he takes the door handle in his grip. I smile, but I know it doesn't touch my eyes. He offers back an equally grim look, mouthing 'he'll be okay' to me before closing the door silently.


	74. Chapter 74

**Disclaimer: The majority of the characters that are portrayed in this story are those that pertain to the Fifty Shades trilogy by E L James. These characters remain her sole property respectively. The plots and themes explored in this story are those of the author, infamouschelsea. The author is in no way affiliated with James and/or the publishing corporation which produced the original works. Any recognisable brands, places or persons used in the story are the sole property of their respected owners and are not the property of the author. No copyright infringement is intended.**

**The song is Jason Mraz's 'I won't give up'.**

**Much Love and Thanks,**

**Chelsea x**

* * *

I huff quietly to myself, crossing my legs again with my foot starting to shake relentlessly in mid-air. It's impossible to even attempt to sit still right now, as I've found out quite evidently. While my feet are dancing an eclectic routine my fingers are up to my mouth, my teeth slowly gnawing my nails and wearing them down. I jerk my head away, feeling the tip of one snap under the scrutiny. I grimace as I inspect the damage.

_I never bite my nails. Never_. I shake my head as I curse my impatience.

I pull my hands down to rest on my thighs, repeating a mantra in my mind to keep my fingers away from my mouth at all times if I want to keep my nails in tact. My eyes scan the room again, skimming over the various potted plants and the truly awful rug in the centre of the room, falling to the seat beside me - and my cell phone resting there. I check it for the twenty-fifth time since Christian disappeared into Flynn's room. He's been in there for one hour and seventeen minutes now… and counting.

What bothers me the most is that I haven't heard a thing from behind that door. Absolutely nothing. For a while I was pacing the floor trying to rid the tingling in my butt, and each time I passed the door I found myself subconsciously slowing down. I wasn't purposively trying to eavesdrop on him, I wouldn't do that – not when it's this serious, at least – I just wanted to know if everything was alright… if _he_ was alright, but I heard nothing. No talking or movement of any kind. Nothing seeped through the wooden barricade separating us. I was left with just my own noise for company.

I began to wonder if Flynn's office was the secret gateway to Narnia!

I feel my phone vibrate in my hand, the ping following quick and screaming at me that another message has arrived.

As soon as Christian left I set myself into the chair furthest from the exit and I pulled my BlackBerry from my pocket. While he ran back to our bedroom to grab his jacket I took off to my office again, revising my steps to get my phone. I knew I'd need distraction if Christian decided he didn't want me, even if it did result in eleven games of Angry Birds – four of which I lost, miserably.

I sent out an email to Hannah and Mark, telling them that I'm home from vacation and will be back at work sometime this week. I have no idea how bad jetlag is going to bite me on the ass in the morning, so I'm better off not guaranteeing anything. I didn't get a reply back from them but I didn't expect one anyway – it's late, and they both have lives outside of the Grey Publishing building.

Scrolling through my contacts I came across Kate's number, and my urge to talk to her grew ever stronger. I tried calling her at her apartment but didn't get an answer, and not wanting to try her cell I settled for a quick text message – one that, gratefully, sparked a back-and-forth conversation.

Her name pops up on my screen as I open the message. I opened it immediately, desperate to get rid of that annoying red light flashing at me. I don't know how anyone can put up with that blinking dot!

***everything's fine at work. don't worry! :-) glad ur back! can't wait to see u K xo***

***I'll be back at work soon. I can't wait to see you either. Any messages while I was away? A x***

***a couple of calls and a few people came in looking for you. didn't leave a name or number though, just said they'll come back. clients? K xo***

***Maybe. If they didn't leave a number it can't be important. Whoever it is they'll hunt me down eventually, they always do! A x***

***probably someone who wants a grey autograph! those babies are worth a packet on ebay ;-) text you tomorrow. dinner date with elliot. can't keep him waiting, can I?! love you K xo***

I send back a quick reply, a smile stretching over my lips. I've missed Kate. I know I really left her in the dark by running off to England the day she started at Grey Publishing, but I'll make it up to her. I have a ton of gifts at home with her name on them, and I know better than anyone that Katherine Kavanagh is a sucker for presents. In fact, she's a sucker for anything shiny too. She's a lot like Mia in that respect. Both of them are Magpies hunting out the next sparkly thing to sustain their interests for a short while.

After hitting send I lock the screen, shutting away my background of our little Blip in his last sonogram. It amazes me how big he looks on there, and how big my bump is already! On the picture he's facing us, almost like he's smiling straight at me with his hand in the air, waving and shouting out that he's our little Blip.

"It's no trouble –"

I jerk my head to the right, shooting my eyes over to the door and seeing it open ajar with Flynn barely visible through the gap. He pulls it open, his hand clasped on the handle as he widens the gap a little more so Christian can emerge from behind. I shuffle to the edge of my seat to try and find him, rising to my feet to step forward until he creeps into view.

He comes through the doorway with his head low, toward the ground, as he shrugs into his jacket. His shoulders roll as he flings it on, sheer exhaustion painted across his face. Striding passed Flynn he mumbles something, Flynn smiling momentarily at the remark.

Christian's eyes find mine as he moves into the waiting room. There are far more lines around his tired greys than there were before. His jaw looks hard, as if it's twitching, but his expression is relatively absent. I force a smile and I fling my arms out to him, offering a hug, but he refuses it with a single shake of his head. I drop them slowly when he reaches my side, a noticeable gap between us. The surge firing around him is tense, making me feel uneasy and so much smaller as I stand at his side. It sends shivers all over my skin, the hairs on the back of my neck standing to attention.

I hesitate to look over at Flynn. I know he'll have noticed this.

I raise my eyes slowly, and find his face equally as tired as Christian's. _God, what the hell happened in there?_ Both of them look like they've just had ten rounds with Tyson!

I make to say something but I'm stopped dead in my tracks. Christian's fingers clamp down around my elbow, digging through the material of my denim jacket and squeezing hard. I snap my head to him, shocked by the starkness of his touch but he discards it. Tugging me into his side he almost knocks me off balance, dragging me with him toward the exit.

My mouth falls open and his feet are moving quickly – too quick for me. His hand is relentless on my arm, clutching and keeping me so close to him. I manage a stuttering of sounds as he forcefully drags me to the door, protesting him but it's useless. His mind is set and closed off. As we reach the door he slams his palm to the glass, thumping it open. Worried, I twist my head back to Flynn. He offers a vaguely sympathetic smile, mouthing 'he'll be okay' to me. I try to nod my head but my insides are swimming… Quivering… Scared…

The air hits us hard, a lock of hair slapping me across my face. I push it away and attempt to move it behind my ears but it's in vain, the wind unhinging it straightaway. My skin feels burnt under his fingers, the coarse fabric of my jacket starting to chafe and pinch my skin. I let out an uncomfortable murmur, trying to squirm out of his hold but he's quick to react. I manage to pull away a little but he tugs me into him again, dragging me along with him as he heads directly to my car in the middle bay in the lot.

"C-Christian…" I mutter his name, the pleading in my voice breaking free.

He doesn't reply. His jaw twitches in response with his fingers tightening. I repeat his name and it provokes a tut from his mouth.

_What did I do?_ I question myself. _God, he's really pissed at me…_

Reaching the passenger side of the car we come to stop, Christian moving to stand in front of me. He drops his hand from my arm, moving swiftly to the lapels of my jacket. He tugs it to a close around my bump, locating my pockets and abruptly fists his hands into them. He pushes around inside them, rummaging until he locates the car keys and pulls them out of my pocket.

It's like I'm not even here – every fibre of his body tensed and ignorant. I stare up at his face, pleading with him to look at me… preferably without resentment or rage. His eyes are fixated on the keys. He unlocks the car, the lights flashing in reply, and he leaves me standing there. He storms around to the other side and slips into the driver's seat.

I feel my bottom lip tremble. I twirl my fingers in front of my stomach.

_Shit, shit, shit_…

I pause for a second. _Fuck_. Gulping down hard I brace myself, trying to build up the courage to join him in the car.

I slip in quietly, pulling the door to a close as gently as I can. The tension slaps me as soon as I closed it. The space between us is thick and raw. My eyes fall to my knees, unable to look over at him. He doesn't say anything to me, but his ragged breaths issue me to put my seatbelt on. My fingers are shaking, making the grab for my belt more difficult than ever before. I manage to get a hold of it, stretching it widely around myself and buckling it into its holder at my hip. No sooner than I heard the click Christian forced the car to life, blasting the engine into an aggressive roar.

He hits the throttle and shoots my R8 through the parking lot, spinning out onto the street and driving away, leaving everything behind us in a blur. He shifts gear seamlessly, quickly hitting full speed.

I start to feel that familiar swirling in my tummy, passing up from my stomach and reaching my throat with a stinging burn. I lift my head gingerly, careful not to throw up on my dashboard. Bringing my fingers to my lips I rub them a few times as I try to breathe it away. I plead with little Blip to calm down – the air feels dreadful now, I don't need to add the smell of vomit to it. The feeling starts to die down, drifting into a slight curling sensation in the pit of my insides.

Regaining myself I fall back into my chair, relaxing my shoulders a little. I look over at him beside me, feeling a wave of guilt for a reason I'm not sure of. I tease my lip between my teeth before breaking the silence between us, mumbling something to him. Even though it's barely a whisper it rips through the car with a sharp, echoing shudder.

"C-Christian… please… d-don't be mad at me." My watery eyes drop to my thumbs in my lap. "I didn't do this to –"

He huffs and I fall silent instantly. Christian cuts me off with distaste, rejecting me from saying anything more.

_Oh no… This is bad… Really bad…_

My breaths deepen in my chest, shaking my ribs ceaselessly. I glance at him, noticing him twitch in the corner of my eye. His arms are concrete and straight as he grapples with the wheel. I move my eyes to his fingers and his knuckles now white and translucent from squeezing and wrapping around the wheel too hard. It's starting to spread across the rest of his hand, his grip unfaltering.

_Fuck._

I snap my head away from him and turn to face the windscreen head on. We pass things incredibly fast, everything just a flickering mess as we slam onto the freeway, slipping in between the mist of other cars driving at a leisurely pace. Christian weaves between them all, switching lane often and aggravating the driver's. Several of them blast their horns at us but Christian doesn't react to hit, not like he would usually. Normally if someone did that to him he'd call back at them, firing all kinds of obscenities. The fact that he doesn't scares me. His mind is somewhere else.

I start to wish that a cop car will catch up with us…

I try to talk to him again, wanting to calm him down like I did with my other tyrant but I can't. I want to be able to run my hand over his arm to get him to relax it, or over his thigh to urge him to ease off the gas. I can't do either. I fear he'll slap my hand away and unleash his rage onto me.

He's turned his head to his side window. Seeing this I tilt my head to him, ready to jerk it back if he moves. He shakes his head a few times, throwing away a thought, and I hear him huff before speaking to me for the first time in an angered tone.

"I _need_ to get home."

I nod my head.

"Are you… m-mad at me?" I stutter.

He doesn't answer me. I sink into my chair, wanting the world to swallow me whole.

"Put the radio on." Christian snaps at me, hitting the gas again and propelling us forward.

I do as he says, gingerly stretching forward and turning on the sound system. I lower the volume first, setting it a low frequency. A soft voice and an even softer guitar speak out to us, filling the car peacefully. It's not enough to detract wholly, but enough to mask my sniffing.

… _Even the stars, they burn… some even fall to the earth… we've got a lot to learn, God knows we're worth it… I won't give up on us, even if the skies get rough. I'm giving you all my love_…

Pushing back into my seat I bring my knees up, resting them against the dash with my feet on the edge of my seat. I keep my head and eyes low, moving only to look out of my window. I close them and roll my head to the side, praying that Christian calms before we get home. The idea of him locking himself away in his office all night horrifies me… or worse: the guest bedroom.

* * *

I open my eyes as I feel the car come to a stop, the humming disappearing in an instant with the music sinking away too. I blink a few times, adjusting to the stationary view, realising that we're home.

He's pulled the car into the spot directly outside of the house. The lanterns we have on the porch are shining straight through to us, revealing the insides of my sleek Audi.

I take to removing my seatbelt, pushing it away cautiously. Before I have the chance to say anything I feel the cold whistling around me, Christian flinging his door open and jumping from the car. He slams the door shut again, just as severe as before. I stare after him as he jogs his way to the house, pushing through our door and disappearing from view.

He's left it open for me. I guess that's something.

My eyes start to deceive me, watering and threatening to flood my face. I shake it away, calming and ordering myself to keep it together. How bad could it have been? I know it's not something he could even remotely enjoy, but still… It can't have been hell, right?

My ever-eager subconscious scowls at me, flinging her arms open in disbelief. _Seriously, what did you expect? You practically fed him to the lions! You've pushed him into something… again. Now, you've got to pay the price._

_Oh God_… I plummet my head into my hands, wanting to scream or cry out for mercy. I rub my face before forcing myself out of the car.

I follow his path to the house, at a much slower and anxious shuffle. I slip in and close the door as quietly as I can, the rest of the house silent bar a series of clinking glasses from somewhere inside. I squint as I try to pinpoint where it is, guessing that's where Christian will be. It grows more frequent so I start to trace it, heading right down our hallway.

I pass several rooms – a guest room, two bathrooms and the library. The disturbance becomes louder the further I go, louder still as I hit an open door leading into our dining room. I hear glass hit glass with profanities thrown in too.

Pushing the door open I look inside, contemplating whether to run off in the other direction.

We haven't used this room since we've been here, which isn't surprising really. We've only lived here for a little over a month, and we've just spent a week on vacation. I make a mental note to try and investigate our house a little more. I really need to check everything out. The only rooms I'm vaguely familiar with are the kitchen, family room, gym – not that I've used it – our offices, and the bedrooms upstairs.

The room is dark, filled only by a small flicker of moonlight seeping through the floor-to-ceiling windows that trail the length of the far wall. The rooms on this side of the house look out onto the sound, that much I'm certain of - seeing the water bounce in the distance.

My eyes are drawn to the long and wide banquet table in the centre of the room. A dozen high-backed chairs line either side, all perfectly parallel and untouched since they were brought here. I objected to having this many, knowing that we would never need it. Christian might joke that we'll end up with twelve kids but realistically we'll need only one side of this table, max! Gia had other ideas. She said that we would need them should we decide to entertain guests. I remember the way Christian and I looked at each other when she said that, the same thought spreading through our minds. Neither of us relished in the idea of opening our home to strangers like Grace and Carrick do for benefits. Gia knew she was losing the war so she pulled out her secret weapon, pressing on to tell us that it would be perfect for the holidays, that we'd be able to have both sides of the family here for thanksgiving's and Christmas's. I caved immediately.

Looking over the dark, polished wood I think of having my parents sat with my other family, The Trevelyan-Grey's.

An extravagant vase overflowing with white roses and lilies is sat in the middle of the table. It helps to add something more to the otherwise bare room. There are a few canvases on the walls, each a natural mix of browns and creams – nothing that '_overwhelms'_. Apparently minimalist was the key in here, especially with such a spectacular view.

I move inside, edging around the table's end, seeing Christian's leather jacket lying in the centre of the table, thrown haphazardly without a single ounce of care. I acknowledge the sound it would have made when he threw it down, the zips smashing the tabletop.

"There you are."

Jerking my head to the side I catch Christian, popping up from behind the bar in the corner of the room. A large, full bottle of something is in his hand. He brings it up to his face to check the label, nodding to himself as he approves it.

He hasn't seemed to acknowledge that I'm here.

He unscrews the top and throws it down onto the bar, swiftly bringing the bottle to his lips. Knocking his head back he downs a fair amount of the liquor, pausing for a second and then taking back a little more.

My mouth opens. I stand there dumbfounded… shocked…

"Ahh…"

Tugging the bottle from his face Christian sighs, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Holding the bottle by the neck he manoeuvres the bar, striding across the length of the room. His shoulders are pinned back assertively as he moves toward me, taking his steps in a long and powerful gait. I think for a second that he's heading straight for me, about to slam into my front, but he sidelines at the last minute, walking passed me and out of the room.

Not even a glance, a smirk… Nothing.

I spin on the spot, laughing at myself in astonishment. I know I went the wrong way about this – I should have told him first, but this is just… just…

"Shit."

Throwing my head back I push my hands to my temples. I want to crush them on either side, to rid myself of this moment.

I just want him to look at me, or at least let me explain.

I pick up my feet and take after him, hustling through the hallway to find where he is. The sound of the alcohol swimming around inside the bottle drives me to him, finding him nearing the top of the staircase with one hand loosely on the balustrade. I murmur his name and he stills on the top stair. He doesn't turn to face me, instead just lifting his bottle again and sucking a long drawn from it.

He's not even reactive of the drink. I don't know what's in the bottle, probably whiskey, but I know it's likely to burn the back of the throat with just an inhalation. It's like he's drinking water – tasteless and plentiful.

"Christian, please stop… please?" I tell him, pushing my way up the stairs to follow him. He moves swiftly, heading off in the direction of our bedroom. "Don't ignore me… Please, don't ignore me. I was trying to help."

I reach our bedroom and find him standing tall in front of the window that opens out to our private balcony. His back's to me, his body blocking most of the view. Like the dining room he's entered without switching on the light, letting the room sit in darkness. The moon is higher and shining through more directly in here, illuminating the silhouette of his frame – a shimmering glow radiating around him. His feet are wide apart and his spine is perfectly straight. I can see from here that he's overwrought.

He continues to drown himself in booze, only dropping his arm and bottle to his side when he's shot back about four glasses worth.

"Christian… Baby –" I whisper, my voice splintering off into nothingness.

He sighs and drops his head to the floor. I move forward to him, halting as he shakes his head and grunts to himself.

_He doesn't want me near him_…

I feel my core sink. I'm shaking. My fingers are picking nervously at the hem of my jacket, disturbed by a thread that's come undone.

_Don't hate me. Please, don't hate me._

Christian sucks in a breath, exhaling it into a strange, inhuman like noise. It wasn't a word or an intelligible sound, rather a strange mix of the two. It terrifies my middle. I press forward an inch, muttering his name in a quiet voice. I manage to say his name twice before he spun violently to face me.

All I can see are his eyes. His eyes are staring me out, menacingly. I lose focus as I'm drawn to them, everything else slurring into the darkness. Shivers twist down my spine, my mind telling me that he's scowling at me.

He cocks his head to the side. I shake mine at him, pleading with him.

He extends his arm to the side, slamming the bottle onto the dresser nearest to him. My shoulders rise as the bang jolts through my ears. I step back unconsciously.

"Ana."

He says my name slowly… harshly.

I don't answer him.

"Ana. I _need_ you… Now."

Before I can register anything he's on me.

Christian slams to my front, grabbing me. His hands force their way to my hair, his fingers fisting through it to pin my face to his. His lips smother mine, his blade like tongue breaking free of his mouth and forcing a gap between my lips. He splits them and lunges his tongue inside to take control of my mouth - his dominance unrelenting.

He spears it in and out, pulling his mouth from mine only to take my lower lip between his teeth to pinch and roll it around.

I groan into him, slamming my hands onto his chest. I press my palms into him, trying to grab to try and steady myself. He's pushing his weight into me, almost knocking me clean off my feet. His hands are glued to the back of my head, fixing me to him. His mouth sucks the air from me, stealing my breath like he needs it, like he needs it more than I do.

My knees buckle under the strain, and I escape a whimper. He tears his lips away from mine, sucking his way to my jaw. He licks along it, lashing down my neck and kissing fervently.

"Take off your pants." He breathes into my ear, his words warm and strained. "_Now_… I need you."

He jolts his head away, pulling back to tower over me. His eyes are narrow and are searching deep inside me, pulling at my centre and making me squirm.

I tremble my fingers from his chest, moving down to the waistband of my sweats to push them from my body. My hands are failing me, everything numb and like Jell-O. Christian growls at me, smacking my hands out of the way to press his into my hips. He thrusts his fingers under the elastic, tugging it down my legs and peeling my panties away from me, too. I feel the cold strike me there, a course of quivering crushing through me. His fingers graze down my leg, hitting my ankle and he wraps them around it hard.

"Move your leg." He orders me, lifting my foot off the ground and tugging my sweats off my leg.

I do as he tells me, resting my hands on his shoulders for support as I lift my other leg to aid him in removing my pants.

I cup my fingers around his jaw when he's finished, urging him to stand. As he rises, his body stiff, I slide my hands down his front. I fumble my fingers to the hem of his t-shirt, toying with it for a second before slipping them under it and finding his warm skin shockingly alert and hostile to my touch.

Christian fires his hands down to mine, coiling around my wrists serpent like and constricting. I still, every inch of me freezing and shutting down.

"Now."

He slams me into him, jerking me forward with his lips coming down to attack mine again.

He releases a chesty noise into my mouth, his breathing erratic and laboured. It matches mine… I'm breathless… Gasping for air when I'm able to.

Striding forward Christian walks me backward, his steps controlled and persuasive, mine weak and concerned. I feel the edge of our bed hit the back of my knees and it cripples me instantly, causing me to buckle and yelp into a forward slouch. His hands loosen their intensity, allowing me to fall to my behind on the mattress, but he maintains his warped receptor of my wrists.

"Now." He repeats, releasing me all together.

I shift and edge forward to the end of the bed, lifting my hands to his jeans but he grunts at me. He's quick to shove his hands to his crotch, ripping his zipper apart and struggling with his belt. He curses as he tries to unhook it, jumping on the spot a few times until he's able to completely open it and pull his jeans down a little, enabling his rigid length to spring free from his boxers.

My eyes fall straight to that part of him, his throbbing and needy member. I lick my lips, moistening them. I sit up straighter, getting ready for him, thinking that he will step forward and urge himself to my lips, wanting me to take him this way but he doesn't.

He clamps his fingers around the base of his length, pumping himself a couple of times before coming at me again, towering over me and plummeting his face onto mine. He groans and presses forward, lowering me down. I collapse under him but he continues to drive me forward.

Christian climbs onto the bed, hovering on all hours over me to stalk me like his prey with a devilish glare lingering in his eyes. He crawls forward, moving me up the bed until I feel my head thrash into the pillows. He stills, knowing that the headboard is eminent.

He rocks on his knees, setting them between my legs before rolling his hips into mine to widen the gap. I bend my legs, hitching them up to make room for him there. He tongues an appreciative moan, falling to lie atop me with his head plunged onto my chest.

His mouth suckles at my nipple with my shirt and bra but I can still feel everything… The pressure, the tugging, his teeth grazing me… I arch my spine, pushing it into him further as the spasms shoot through me and lash around, splintering off into quivers down my legs.

His hands grapple me all over, his left fondling with my breast and his other spearing down my legs to my desperate apex.

I slam my eyes shut as he finds my centre. His fingers move rapidly, circling hard… harder… stronger…

I feel him ride his length against my thigh, stroking it into me so I can feel him in his fullest audacity. I struggle to keep a lid on my own noises, the groans tearing through my chest and exploding out into the silence. Christian lifts his head, hovering over mine. His forearms come to press into my sides, caging around me.

"Open…" He pants, "Open your eyes."

I resist at first, my eyelids heavy and already spent. He doesn't move until I respond to him. I gather the strength to flicker them open, finding his eyes level with mine, just inches away. A grey shimmer flickers around the rest of him.

He stares into me, his expression shifting and softening ever so slightly as if his talking to me sweetly, but there is a hesitant and desperate undertone lurking there.

_Please?_

He pauses and waits for me.

"Yes…" I breathe. "Y-Yes… Christian, yes –"

My answer unleashes him. He pushes the tip of himself to my centre, slow at first until he's inside then progresses to a sharp and spearing thrust, filling me completely in one jolt.

I scream out as he slams higher into me, his pushes short but powerful… Achingly strong… I suck in a deep breath, the air fierce as it strikes the back of my throat. He pins me into the mattress.

"Yes… Fuck, yes…" Christian grunts, rocking his hips into mine. "Safe… Mine –"

I try to buck my pelvis to meet his motions but he's too fast, his hips are too strong for mine. I'm surrendered to lie there, enclosed, to accept him as he drives into me in extensive and taut strokes. I feel myself quiver, a bolt rocketing through me from his length that's filling me indefinitely. It spasms its way up my sex, lunging into my stomach starting to twitch under his.

He swirls his hips, stretching and grinding into me. I feel him shudder, a small part of him pouring into me. I flash my eyes open and amid the sparks I see him screw up his face.

"Fuck…"

He quickens his intensity, his release building up inside him. He pounds a sudden rhythm, his words grunting until he climaxes violently.

"Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine… My… Safe… Place… Fuck –"

He stills and releases everything he has into me, filling me with the seeds of his desperation. He rides out his finish, using up the last of his energy to see me to my own climax. He buried his face into my neck, groaning as he tried to pound his hips into mine. He moved to circling his length inside me, driving me to my explosive finish.

I came loudly around him, crying out his name and trembling unreservedly. I screamed until my voice died into an exhausted breath, my body falling lame like him on top of me.

Christian mumbled something before he rolled off my body, falling to the space next to me. He shifted to his side and ordered to me turn away from him and I did, without questions.

I curled my knees up to my chest, as much as I could. I felt him wrap and mould himself around me, his legs shaping mine perfectly and his chest flush with my spine.

His hand skimmed over my stomach, moving to my heaviest part where he held me, securely. His breath was warm on the back of my neck, and his lips were moist and soft as he trailed kisses along my shoulder.

I passed out somewhere between a kiss and hearing him say 'thank you'.


	75. Chapter 75

**Disclaimer: The majority of the characters that are portrayed in this story are those that pertain to the Fifty Shades trilogy by E L James. These characters remain her sole property respectively. The plots and themes explored in this story are those of the author, infamouschelsea. The author is in no way affiliated with James and/or the publishing corporation which produced the original works. Any recognisable brands, places or persons used in the story are the sole property of their respected owners and are not the property of the author. No copyright infringement is intended.**

**Thank you so much for your kindness, support and love. It really does mean a lot and, as always, I'm tremendously humbled and appreciative of your dedication and help. Sending so much love and thanks to each of you.**

**Nelly - Thank you! I hope you enjoy it x**

**Nikki - That's such a lovely thing to hear, thank you. I appreciate it immensely! All of the support does help to outweigh the nastiness, it's just something that plays on your mind a little x**

**LA - Thank you for your continued support and kindness! Like you pointed out, constructive by all means but not hatred or abuse. Thank you for what you've said. I have hopes that this is just the beginning, but I have a lot to learn and experience before I can even contemplate being on the same page as some of the great writers here. Looking forward to hearing from you soon x**

**MX - I'm glad you feel that way, and I hope you continue to! I try hard to try and write in canon to the original characters we were given so to hear that, in your opinion, I am is a great thing to know. Thank you! x**

**Guest - You're entitled to think Ana was pathetic, it's your opinion. But, thank you for offering it in a kinder way x**

**I know there was a fair bit of confusion and extreme thoughts on the last update, and the nature of Christian's behaviour/attitude but I hope this chapter explains it a little better. **

**Much Love,**

**Chelsea x**

* * *

I start to wake slowly, my brain feeling thick and muzzy. I flicker my eyes open to a room soaked in blackness, all and any light disguised amply. Groaning, I push my hands up to my face to rub my eyes hard, thinking that it'll help bring some light to me but my efforts are wasted. I'm as blind with my eyes open as when they're shut. I claw my hands down to my sides, propping myself up on my elbows so I can look around the blurry, pitch-black oblivion surrounding me.

I scan the room for a second but soon lower my eyes to the space at my side, seeing nothing there. Just an empty space. I run my hand over the sheets and my brows knit together across my forehead. It still feels a little warm. He was there. He was there before.

Twisting my head to the right I peer around the door leading out to the hallway. I think it's open slightly, but the lights off outside. Christian always turns on the light when he heads downstairs.

"Christian?" I murmur. My voice is groggy and tired. "Christian?"

"I'm here –"

A fluorescent whiteness floods the room as Christian emerges from the bathroom, standing in the doorway. I squint and bring my hand up to my eyes to block out the burning light that's stinging my retinas. He knocks off the switch quickly, moving into the bedroom and shutting the door behind him. He meets the bed almost immediately, sliding into it and filling the void next to me.

"I'm here, baby." He shushes me gently, running his fingers up and my back. My _nude_ back.

I tug my head down and peer under the comforter draped around me, seeing nothing on my body. I swear I was still wearing my t-shirt… I wiggle my toes freely... I was wearing shoes… I look down at Christian lying beside me. His body is clean of clothes too.

"Baby, lie down…"

I rattle my head from side to side, pushing away the confusion, before falling backwards to lie down. I swiftly roll onto my side and shuffling closer to him, curling into his chest.

I trace my hand across his abdomen as I nuzzle my head into the crook of his underarm, breathing deeply to inhale as much of his scent as I can. He brings his arm around my back, squeezing me tight so I'm pressed into him with his cool fingers cupping my shoulder. His other hand captures mine rolling over his stomach. He pushes his fingers between the gaps of mine, locking them together and holding my hand under his. I feel his lips kiss the top of my head lightly, provoking me to lift my face up to him.

I'm close to him – close enough to see him clearly, and notice things that would otherwise go undetected. My expression shifts as I examine him. His eyes look different. They look puffy and sore.

"Have you been… Crying?" I whisper, nervously.

"Shh…" Christian pulls his lips down to me, touching them to the tip of my nose before nudging his against mine. He tries to quieten me repeatedly, shushing me.

"You've been crying –" I tell him, nodding my head in reply to his response. "Are you okay?" My throat squeaks.

He shrugs against me, combing his fingers through my hair and pushing it away from my face. He focuses his attention to his fingers, only confessing after a short while of my relentless eyes interrogating him.

"I'm fine… I'm a lot better than I was earlier." His eyes don't falter from his hand placing a lock of hair behind my ear.

He continues to run his fingers down the length of my hair rhythmically, almost soothingly, until it escapes his touch and falls against my back. He stalls, falling silent for a second before huffing quietly to himself.

"I just don't like talking about her. I get mad when I talk about her."

I nod, "I thought you were mad at me."

"No, Ana, no… I wasn't mad at –"

"I know." I answer him, cutting him off by bringing my finger to rest against his lips. I smile kindly to him. "I thought you were. You weren't talking to me and when I found you in here… I knew. I knew it when you touched me."

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have cut you out the way I did. I was being a dick." I rub my cheek into his palm as he cups my jaw. His hand is warm and soft and absolute. "I couldn't control it. It's no excuse, but I can't control it… Not when I talk about her."

Christian grinds his teeth together at the mere mention of that woman. I turn my face into his hand completely, kissing the centre of his palm. I feel him soften his rigidity.

"I didn't know what I would end up doing. I was all over the place. I just had to get you home, as quick as I could… I made you my priority. I focused my mind on you. I had to get you home just in case… Just in case I… I…"

He trails off and shakes his head, shoving his train of thought out of his mind. Christian slams his head into his pillow, forcing his eyes to a close and breathing deeply. I copy him, pushing my head back down to his chest and turning my beady, wide eyes from his.

"Ana, I've lost it before. I've punched walls, windows. I've broken a shit load of things in the past… I know what I'm capable of, but you were there. You were there with me and I won't let anything happen to you. I won't hurt you."

"All you had to do was tell me… I would've understood." I answer him as quietly as I could, holding him tight to soften the blow I know I just stabbed him with. Thankfully he didn't react to it.

"I couldn't. I didn't want to take it out on you… That sounds pathetic considering the way I treated you, but I thought if I kept quiet that was somehow the better choice. I knew I'd end up shouting at you and you don't deserve that."

I hug him tighter.

"I needed something to take the edge off it all… That's why I headed straight to the bar when we got back. I needed something strong enough to try and block it out."

"Did it work?"

"No." He cuts abruptly. "Alcohol has never worked for me. Exercise helps a little, it helps to exhaust me… I used to run home from Flynn's office when I was living in Escala. It gave me some time to clear my head before getting home and trying to sleep it off."

I nod. I remember him telling me this before. I remember that Escala isn't that far Flynn's building.

"But, I couldn't do that last night. I couldn't just run off and disappear on you… I've done that before and look what happened." He pauses. "I had to turn to you… because you take it away. You take it all away. The hurt, the pain –"

Christian runs to a stop. He sniffs hard and his chest hitches a few times under me. His breaths alter, becoming slow and reduced. I hold him, pinning my cheek to his ribs. I hear his heart remaining steady under my ear, beating hard but stable.

We lie still for a little while, until I broke the silence. I hesitated for a second, wondering if now is the right time to ask my question… if there's ever a right time to ask it…

"Was it bad? With Flynn… Was it really bad?"

"It's always bad… Dreadful, if I'm honest." Christian snorts, "I don't think I've ever had a _good_ session with him. I've always felt fucking awful when I've left his room… It's exhausting and infuriating and fucking miserable to have to sit there and rake over years' worth of shit for an hour or so."

"Do you hate me for making you go?"

"Fuck no, I don't hate you. Ana, I could never hate you." He trickles the back of his fingers down my exposed cheek. "I love you for making me go. I needed it. I needed you to make me do this… Flynn and I talked through what happened on our vacation. When I… broke down in front of you, and when I upset you… We talked about what's being happening recently, why I haven't been to see him in so long –"

"Christian –" I make to ask him why he's skipped them but he answers me, as if my tone was enough of a question to urge him to open up.

"I didn't do it on purpose. It probably looks like I was avoiding it, but I wasn't. I just had a lot to deal with… First there was all of that shit with Elena, then the shit at your office, and then I found out that fucking Hyde was being moved. I just didn't have the time to deal with my own fucked up life, not with everything else going on."

"I didn't make life any easier, did I?"

"There are two of us in this marriage." He corrects me, his voice stern but soft at the same time. "Ana, I just couldn't find the time. You weren't to blame for any of this. I was too busy trying to juggle everything else. When I found the time to make an appointment something came up, so I had to cancel."

_I was the cause for a lot of that._ I think to myself. I'm always pulling him away from things when something fucks up in my world. _Fuck_. I need to stop.

_You need to grow a pair and deal with shit yourself…_

"I'll make sure that I keep on top of my appointments from now on. I promise."

"Christian, this is about you. You don't have to promise me anything."

"I do… Baby, you're my goal."

I jerk my head up and push away from his chest. I shuffle up the bed so I can lie eye to eye with him. He pulls back his forearm, lifting it higher up the headboard to accommodate me. I search his darkened face intently. My sight is still a little blurred and sleepy.

"I'm sorry, what? I'm your _goal_?"

He musters a brief smile and a single nod of his head. He brings his fingers to my face again, circling them around my mouth.

"We're sticking with the goal based treatment. It's been the most effective method in the past. We're hoping it'll work this time too." His fingertips roll over my lips, creating a small gap between them. I pucker them a little, kissing him. "Flynn asked me what my goal is, what I want to achieve… You know what I said?"

I shake my head.

"Free. I just want to be free." Christian tells me honestly, his face remaining soft and fairly emotionless. "I want to be free of her, the anger, everything… I want to be happy and I want you to be happy. This is to make you happy."

"You shouldn't be doing this for me. This isn't about me."

"If you're happy, I'm happy. It's as simple as that… You're not happy when I'm like this. I make you angry and upset when I'm like this. I don't want my Ana to be like that… She's the one holding me back. She's the thing stopping us from being happy."

I drop my eyes from his face. He pulls his hand away from me too, allowing it to rest on his stomach.

"Christian…"

"I know." He answers me instantly. I raise my eyes to his again. "I need to let go of her."

Without saying a word I merge into him, pressing into his chest further and bringing my lips to his. I kiss him with a renewed sense of ardour and compassion, agreeing with him wholly.

We kiss for a moment, Christian repeating his final words to me – affirming that he needs to move on and let go of the hurt from his past.

I ran my hand down his cheek and settled my head into the crook of his arm once more, holding him dearly around the waist as I fell back to sleep.

* * *

"Baby, open your eyes."

"No…" I moan. I claw my fingers around the comforter and I drag it up the bed, covering my face with it. "Go away."

I feel a pair of warm fingers clasp over mine, attempting to tug the covers from me to expose me to the brightness whirling around. I growl at him, quickly replacing the comforter with a pillow. I slap his hands away from him, my attempts at trying to switch off my personal wake-up call… my personal and terribly annoying wake-up call.

He persists to rouse me, shaking me a few times with his hands on my shoulders. I grew more and more cranky with him until I snapped. I tore the pillow from my face and flashed my eyes open. A pair of alert greys stared back at me, sat in a perfectly clean-shaven face.

"What?" I whine. It brings a smirk to his lips.

I force my eyes from his intense grilling, moving down his body and learning that he's already dressed and sitting next to me in his grey pin-stripe suit, with a crisp white shirt. No jacket or tie, yet.

"Why are you dressed?"

"I've got a meeting that I can't get out of." His voice is loud – too loud for this time of the morning. I try to silence him, waving my hand up and down. He laughs loudly before dropping his level to a whisper. "I have to leave soon and I didn't want you to wake up alone. I know how much you hate it."

I scowl at him and his charm. I slam my palms into the bed and struggle to sit up. I sit myself beside him, bringing my fingers to rub away the sleepiness from my face. I don't bother to quash my unruly hair, even though I know it resembles that of a troll doll right this second. I yawn enthusiastically, collapsing my weight into him.

"I wish I didn't have to go –"

"It's okay…" I yawn again, my jaw unhinging as I crank my mouth open wide. I shake it out as a tremble flickers down my spine. "I've got to head into work too. I've got stuff to do. I can't put it off forever."

"Are you sure? We've only just got back and you're seriously jetlagged."

"So are you and you're heading to work… I'll be fine."

"You could always take today –"

I lift my hand and silence him. I shake my head and purse my lips. "I'm going to work."

"Okay." He lets out a weird noise and pulls his arm from around my shoulders. "You better start getting ready then."

"What time is it?" I ask as he pushes off the bed. He stands facing me. His fingers flick his collar up, swiftly slipping his tie under it. A blue tie. It matches my eyes.

"8:27."

"Fuck!" I shout and clamber from the bed as quickly as I can, jolting my arms and legs all over the place to try and shove the sheets from my body. "Why didn't you wake me sooner?!"

"I didn't know you were going in!" His voice hitches up an octave, both hands shooting up in defense. "I thought you were going to be a good little wife and stay at home today."

I grimace at him, pressing my hands into my hair. "I'm going to be late. I need to shower, get dressed, get my things from my office, grab something to eat –"

"Ana, slow down."

Christian halts me, talking to me sternly from across the bed. He fixes his tie before moving around to me. When he reaches me he sets his hands on my upper arms, keeping my front to him.

"You take a shower and I will set out some clothes for you. I'll get your papers from your office and I will make sure there is something for you to eat in the car -" I open my mouth to butt in and he offers me the look. "It's going to be fine. Stop stressing."

He stoops down and presses his forehead into mine, looking down at me with a tender smile on his lips.

"One step at a time, remember?"

He repeats my words to him and stares me out until I cave. I rise up onto my toes and crush my lips to his before pounding off in the direction of our bathroom, heading for the quickest shower of my life.

* * *

I rock back and forth on my heels, growing more impatient by the second. I lock my hands together in front of my stomach with my eyes stuck on the dial in front of me.

I held my breath from the second I stepped inside the elevator until the moment the dial finally reached my floor, and the doors slid open and freed me from the steel casing. I push it out and shove my hands down my thighs, making sure my dress is down and in place before stepping out of the cart.

I'm wearing a dress I've yet to throw on: a knee length grey with a scooped neck, cinched in waist and long, billowing sleeves. I didn't choose it – this morning, or when I bought it. Caroline Acton said it was perfect for one of those 'lazy days at the office', something I think Christian knew when he laid it out for me on our bed earlier. I wouldn't have picked it for myself. I only agreed to save arguments and stern looks. I shrugged on a long pull-over before I left – something to cover my stomach and keep me warm during the day.

"Mrs Grey, I'll be in the lobby if you need me."

I twist my head to the side, to Sawyer standing next to me. I smile as I look at him properly for the first time this morning. He looks much better than he did the last time I saw him.

I nod my head and watch as the doors close again, heading back down to the first floor. Christian would probably have a cow, but not even I can get into that much trouble walking from the elevators to my office door!

I plaster a smile across my face as I pass everyone at their desks. I try to move across the floor as quickly as I can, desperate to be in the safety and sanctuary of my office. I keep my eyes to the ground, deterring them from anyone willing to pounce and demand a full debrief of my trip. I just want to be in my office with a cup of tea and quiet.

I count my steps as I walk, hitting a total of eighteen when I reached my door. I slipped my things into my left hand, reaching out with my right to open my door. I managed to push it open and successfully get a foot inside before I was forced to a stop.

"Ana!"

Closing my eyes I slowly turn on my heels, a grin stretched over my lips in preparation for the onslaught. I only opened them when I felt a pair arms squeeze around my shoulders and a mane of silky hair shoved into my face.

"Oh God, I missed you!"

"I missed you too, Kate." I tell her, grimacing slightly. "But you're crushing the baby."

"Oh –" With an apology she releases me instantly, her eyes and hands dropping to my protruding stomach. Her lips peel back around her teeth and her pearly whites shine at me pristinely. She rubs her hands over Blip, circling him. "Jeez, Ana, how can you have gained so much weight in just one week? You're huge!"

I huff and push backwards, moving into my room. I drop my things on my desk and shrug out of my pullover, throwing it down onto the chair in front of me.

"Thanks… That really fills me with joy right about now." I roll my eyes as I waddle around the desk, making my way to my chair. I sigh as I drop into it.

Kate joins me in my office. She pounds in all morning-glory and perches herself on the edge of my desk, twisting her torso so she's facing me, but her eyes are fixated on the gift bags I set down with my purse and stack of files.

"Sorry!" She chimes in quickly, "I get it. You're having a fat complex, right? I had one after I split with Mike in sophomore year… I gained twenty pounds because of that prick."

"It's not really the same thing… You weren't growing someone inside you who constantly wants feeding." I contest her, bringing my forearms to lie flat across the top of my bump.

"Believe me, it felt like I was! I had my own little food baby going on inside me."

She wriggles on my desktop, shuffling closer to the bags. She peers over them, examining the contents. The temptation is too much for her, her hands lifting from her sides to inside the first bag. I shake my head at her, leaving her to it and turning my attention to my computer. I roll my chair closer to it as I wait for it to warm up.

"Which one's mine?" Kate pipes up, clawing deep into a bag full to the brim of presents.

"Who says one of them is for you?" I quiz her and she tersely twists her body to me, snapping her head with her eyebrow arched perfectly. I cave in an instant. "The bigger one of the three… We've put Elliot's in there too. We've labelled all of the presents, so can you pass his onto him later?"

"Sure."

She waves her hand at me, utterly distracted in her quest to find out what we got her. She pushed out a series of 'ooh' and 'ah' noises as she lifted the little boxes out of the bag. She shook them vigorously and squealed when a few of them rattled. When she hit one of Elliot's she groaned and shoved it away with disregard.

I ask Kate if she'll pass on the other two bags to Hannah and Mark when she heads back to her desk. Both bags contain the same things, so confusing them isn't an issue but I need them gone as soon as. I will see both of them later, when we have a meeting to run through how things have been in my absence, but I need them gone now.

In all three of the gift bags are various jars of candies and fudges, along with some other cute trinkets. I know that I won't be able to resist the urge to pop open the jars and devour all of the candy in seconds. I have the biggest sweet tooth this morning. The muffins and croissants that Christian handed me in the car weren't enough to sustain my cravings for anything sugary. I feel guilty as I look down briefly to my 'candy draw'. It'll need restocking by the end of today.

Kate takes everything she needs on her way out, leaving me in peace so I can make a start on the mountain of paperwork staring straight at me from the corner of my desk. Work has become alien to me lately, especially after running off into the sunset with Christian.

I huff and move away from the daunting pile of papers for a second.

I log into my emails and feel my stomach sink as I watch my inbox load over thirty unread messages. I skim down the list – it's just client and after client sending over samples of their manuscripts. A few inter-company messages are thrown in too, for good measure.

I read through several of them, deleting the lesser important ones as I go – mainly ones that I know will have been answered already by Hannah or Mark while I was away. I clear my list, my inbox flashing zero for a moment before a brand new message came through. I shake my head as I hover over the sender and subject line.

_It's not even been twenty minutes…_

* * *

**To: Anastasia Grey**

**Subject: I love you Mrs Anastasia Grey.**

**Date: 15th December 2011 09:13:04**

**From: Christian Grey**

I'm missing you like crazy.

Please, take it easy today? I'm already falling victim to jetlag, I dread to think how you might be feeling right now.

I love you so much. Both of you!

C x

Christian Grey

Jetlagged and Grumpy CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.

* * *

I hit reply and creep closer to my screen, drawing the keyboard nearer to me.

* * *

**To: Christian Grey**

**Subject: I feel the same way, don't worry.**

**Date: 15th December 2011 09:20:01**

**From: Anastasia Grey**

I miss you too. Today is going to be a very, very long day. I wish I was with you. I could do with a kiss and a hug.

I will take it easy. I promise. And, before you say it, I won't go anywhere without Sawyer. Unless of course I need a bathroom break, in which case I'm sure Kate will be more than happy to accompany me. In fact, I think I may need her very soon. I think Blip likes my bladder a little too much!

I love you too!

Grumpy?

A x

P.S. Blip wants me to pass on: 'I love you too, Daddy x'

Anastasia Grey

Editor currently crossing her legs, Grey Publishing Ltd.

* * *

**To: Anastasia Grey**

**Subject: Counting Down...**

**Date: 15th December 2011 09:23:43**

**From: Christian Grey**

Until I get to see you.

Carrick called, he wants us to head over to Bellevue this evening. I said we would, but if you don't feel up to it I will call him and reschedule. Whatever you want, Mrs Grey.

Hmm, Blip likes Mommy's bladder but Daddy likes Mommy's nipples ;-)

I'm grumpy because my wife isn't in my arms.

C x

P.S. To Blip: 'Daddy is missing you too, baby. I'll shower you with kisses when I see you x'

Christian Grey

Nipple Obsessed CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.

* * *

**To: Christian Grey**

**Subject: Get to work!**

**Date: 15th December 2011 09:25:13**

**From: Anastasia Grey**

Time will pass quicker if we keep busy. Besides, I have a lot of work to get through. I'm sure you do too. Go shout at someone, or whatever it is that you actually do all day. ;-)

No, I'd like to go to your parents. We can hand out the rest of the presents – Kate has hers and Elliot's already. What time will you finish?

I have a feeling that Blip may also like Mommy's nipples when he arrives, so you will have to share.

Don't be grumpy – it doesn't look good on you! :-)

A x

Anastasia Grey

Editor, Grey Publishing Ltd.

* * *

**To: Anastasia Grey**

**Subject: I am at work!**

**Date: 15th December 2011 09:27:45**

**From: Christian Grey**

I do a lot more than shout at my employees. Sometimes all I have to do is look at them a certain way and they run off.

I have a late meeting so I won't be able to pick you up after work. I'll meet you at my parents' house. You and Kate can head there together.

Now, stop emailing me or my wife will not be happy with me. She's a bossy little thing at times.

Laters baby,

C x

Christian Grey

CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.

* * *

I roll my eyes at his message, laughing to myself. I didn't bother sending a reply. It'd only result in more emailing between us, which in turn would amount to no work being done on my side of things.

I knock off my screen and stretch across my desk to the mass of papers, dragging them to sit in front of me. I wriggle backwards into my chair and flick off my shoes so I can bring my feet up to sit beneath me. I take a decent sized section of the pile and set it down on my lap.

I find a ton of mail on top, most of it already opened with yellow post-it notes on the envelopes and a memo as to what the letter inside is about. Christian gave Hannah the go-ahead to open my mail while I was away from the office. I flick through the envelopes and wonder if she's only left the important ones for me, dealing and disposing the ones of lesser magnitude?

All of them look identical – the standard print of 'Mrs. A. Grey' on them. Except one.

As I flicked through them I came across a much smaller envelope hidden in the mix. My name is written on the front – handwritten and untidy.

I turn it over and check the back, noticing that this one has been left untouched. A few smudges line the sealed flap. There's a few ink marks on it too, and some other stains.

"Strange…" I mutter to myself, sitting up straighter.

I push my finger under the seal, tearing it open. I pull out a crumbled scrap of paper. A tiny fragment. The page is torn in several places. More stains mark the note, some of them ink but not all of them. I shudder, thinking of what they might be. Some of them are dark brown.

I run my eyes over it, finding a jerky and disordered message scrawled on the page. It takes a lot of effort to decipher it, some of the words are so untidy that I have to squint to read them.

_Mrs Grey,_

_I am so sorry for everything. I didn't mean to cause trouble for you. Please believe me. I had no idea what was happening. I didn't know what she was doing. I didn't know what she's capable of._

_I needed to say sorry before it's too late. Please, please forgive me. Please?_

_Be careful. She will stop at nothing until she gets what she wants._

_I'm sorry_

_Danielle_

I drop my shoulders forward.

I read the note again.

_She? Who the hell is –_

"Elena." I bite her name out, cursing profusely.

Stretching to my phone I pull the receiver to my ear, calling out to Hannah and asking her to patch me through to Danielle's home number.

I sit, impatiently, for a little while before being directed to her answer machine. I scramble to write down the cell number she speaks out in her message before hanging up and dialling out the next sequence.

It rings out.

"Come on… Pick up, pick up, pick up." I chant down the phone.

I need to talk to her.

After twelve rings I was put through to her answering machine again. I coughed and stumbled to bring out a few words.

"Erm… Hi, Danielle, it's me… Ana… Ana Grey." I correct myself, rubbing my fingers over my lips. I'm shaking. "Um, I got your letter this morning and I really need to talk to you about it… Please can you call me back so we can meet… Maybe for lunch or something."

I trail off into a mumble, shaking my head and wondering what more there is to say.

"Danielle… I… It's okay. I for-forgive you… Please call me back… Thanks. B-Bye."

I drop the receiver into the holder.

I fall back into my chair, staring blankly at her message.

I hear my door open and the person standing there asks if I'm okay. I don't look up or answer them. I force my fingers to fold the note up. I slip it into the top drawer of my desk before lifting my head and dismissing the caller at my door.


	76. Chapter 76

******Disclaimer: The majority of the characters that are portrayed in this story are those that pertain to the Fifty Shades trilogy by E L James. These characters remain her sole property respectively. The plots and themes explored in this story are those of the author, infamouschelsea. The author is in no way affiliated with James and/or the publishing corporation which produced the original works. Any recognisable brands, places or persons used in the story are the sole property of their respected owners and are not the property of the author. No copyright infringement is intended.**

**LA - I'm thrilled you knew what was happening all the while! :) Thank you! There are some loose ends to tie up at some point, better late than never! Looking forward to hearing your thoughts on the next one x**

**My Fifty - I'm writing in canon to what we know of the original trilogy and the epilogue. If someone appears there, then they shall remain alive here :) Thank you x**

**MX - Thank you :) I'm just as excited for it all to unravel! Happy Easter to you too! Much Love x**

**Thank you guys! As ever your support is immensely appreciated. **

**I see this chapter as more of a transitional one - in other words I'm excusing myself for the overall 'blah' that is below. I don't think it's my best but nonetheless I hope you enjoy it. Or at least manage to get through it! The next one will be better, hopefully.**

**I hope you all had a great Easter if you celebrate it. If not, then I hope you had an equally great weekend! :) **

**Much Love,**

**Chelsea x**

* * *

"Ana?"

I sink backwards into my chair, my shoulders dropping and slackening.

"Ana –" The voice calls to me again. It's more concerned than before. More apprehensive, even. "Ana, are you okay?"

I lift my eyes slowly, scaling the length of my desk and up a body patterned in black and white, until I meet with a pair of bright and wide eyes glaring at me from the doorway. I stare vacantly at Hannah.

She repeats herself again.

Her voice splits in the middle, hitching an octave as she questions my health and sanity. The discomfort in her tone is more prevalent than ever, her expression mimicking it exactly. She moves into my room properly, taking a quick glance behind her before pushing the door to a close. She creeps nearer to me, moving to stand behind the chairs opposite placing her hands on top of them as she comes to a stop.

I cock my head and search her face. Her long blonde hair is pulled right back, into a high ponytail. What makeup she's wearing is minimal and flawless, and for the first time I notice that her eyebrows are a completely different colour to her hair.

Becoming all too aware of the silence screaming loudly between us I snap my head into place, blinking away all thoughts in my mind and creating a blank, uninjured canvas. I blink hard several times and moisten my lips, finally building the stamina to kick-start my lungs.

"F… fine. I'm fine." I splutter out, dropping my eyes from hers immediately. I shift on my behind, fidgeting. I busy my fingers with the corners of a few papers in my lap.

_I don't know what I am. I definitely not fine._

"Are you sure? You look a little…" She trails off, pausing and thinking hard of how best to word her next part. "Out of it –"

"I'm fine. Really, I'm okay."

I dismiss it, shaking my head in defiance. I continue to tell her that it's just morning sickness. Her silence echoed that she didn't believe me, but it also told subtly that she had accepted my excuse all the same.

"Do you want a cup of tea? It might help you feel a little better."

I thank her, managing a weak smile as I watch her making her way out of my office. Just before she left and closed the door behind herself she reflected my smile, sympathetically.

Left in the seclusion of my daunting four walls I push myself into action. I force myself to make a start on the insubstantial mail sat blandly in my lap. I open them all up, skimming through each one as a means to rid myself, and my mind, of the previous five minutes. I find a few contracts and financial statements that 'need' my 'immediate' attention before they're approved. I push them to one side for now. I'll ask someone in finance or legal to check them over for me. How am I supposed to know what to look out for? I just need to know where to sign my name! If I need to, I'll ask Christian at some point. I'm sure he'll be more than willing to educate me in the world of mergers and acquisitions. If anything, I think he's itching to.

Hannah comes back with a steaming cup of tea and a few cookies to help settle my stomach. I reassure her again, pressing that it was just nausea. She just smiled. She didn't bring it up again, thankfully.

The last thing I need is for Sawyer to hear that I'm having a 'moment'. I sure as hell know that he's got Christian on speed dial, and that he'd call him straightaway without even bothering to check in on me first. I _know_ he would. I know that Christian's briefed everyone that works for or around us: If there are any signs of severe illness, labour or strange behaviour period, he is to be called immediately. He let it slip a while back, just before I returned to work after the Hyde business. I objected, of course, and everything I said was ignored.

I didn't taste the tea, downing it in one massive gulp. Pushing the cup across my desk I pick up the phone on my way back into my seat, dialling for the main desk in the lobby.

I had a stray thought fleet through my mind. It was one that needed settling, quickly. I have to cover all my bases on this one.

Claire answered after the second ring.

"Good morning Mrs Grey. Can I help you with anything?"

"Claire, please call me Ana." I correct her. She was here well before I was, and when I arrived I was just a measly assistant. Just because my name's on the lease now doesn't mean everything's changed. "Can you do me a huge favour?"

"Sure, no problem. What is it?"

I suck in a long breath, unknowingly dropping my voice to a whisper as I ask. "Can you keep a close eye on who's coming into the building?"

"Is there anyone in particular I should be looking out for?"

I wait a moment to answer her, hearing her shoo someone on the other end. She mouths a babble of sounds, only 'Mrs Grey' audible, before coming back to me - her surroundings suddenly silent.

"A tall, Barbie wannabe dressing like the Grim Reaper -" I quip. "My security is down in the lobby anyway, but I just need an extra pair of eyes on the lookout. Peace of mind and –"

"Don't worry about it Ana, it's no trouble. I'll call up to in-house security and get them to monitor the screens more closely." Claire chimes to me, her voice calm and jovial. "If I see the Grim Reaper what do you want me to do with her?"

"Distract her –" _Shoot her_… "Just don't let her anywhere near the elevators. I don't want her within a mile of me." Just thinking about her makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand up on end. "Get security to remove her from the building. She's not welcome here." I finish, my jaw twitching.

_If you can throw her into the way of a high-speed moving vehicle that'd be perfect!_ I smirk to myself. I can't think of anywhere better for Ms Elena Gorilla-Butt Lincoln than underneath a car… Her head caught under one of the wheels and her pathetic Jimmy Choos poking out from the sides… Nothing more apt for the Queen of all trolls herself.

I give Claire a few more details about Elena, stressing the fact that she won't head on over to the desk if she turns up. The last time she was here she was using Danielle's key card to access the staff elevator, in order to get to me. I know that all of Danielle's accounts have been suspended but where Elena's concerned you can never be too cautious. If there's a way to do something, that bitch will find it.

"Okay, got it. Anything else?" She asks after my long list of Ms Lincoln's _finer_ details.

"If Danielle arrives, can you give me a call?"

"Wilkes? I didn't think she worked here anymore?"

"She doesn't. I just want to know if she turns up."

I don't think she will. I don't think Danielle would want to be within a hundred miles of this place after everything. The tension between us was impenetrable the last time we spoke, and the way I fired her wasn't exactly the most appropriate. I can't blame her for not wanting to see me, or for not answering my calls. She's probably added my name to the 'do not answer' list in her cell phone.

But, why send me a note? Why now? Apologise, but then decline my calls? What's the point in that?

Ending the call I return the receiver to its holder. I roll my chair more squarely to my desk, jumping head first into work. I need to keep busy. The day will pass quicker if I keep busy. I repeat this to myself over and over, using Christian as my incentive.

_Keep busy = day goes quicker = head to Bellevue = see Christian._

It wasn't a fool proof plan.

Using him as my means of getting through the day worked for a little while, but wasn't enough to sustain my attention or focus. Even in the briefest of silent moments he wasn't enough to stop my mind running at a hundred miles an hour, running through every possible outcome and problem facing us. I made a note to invest in a sound system for my office, something to drown out the quiet.

By 11am I came to a crashing stop, completely wiped of anything and everything.

I had sorted, approved and filed several tons of paperwork. I even dragged out the process by creating a new colour co-ordinated filing system based on the author, genre, length of time that they've been associated with the company, and how much profit they have brought to SIP/Grey Publishing.

I cleared out my desk, emptying every drawer except the top one. I kept that shut at all times!

I organised all of the files on my computer and tidied my desktop.

My office was spotless by the time I was done. Not a single thing out of place.

Grabbing a few newly printed samples I left my office, ready to distribute them to anyone who had a free moment out on the floor. I had already read through them and made considerable notes, but having a fresh set of eyes look over them can only be a positive thing. Besides, I had to get out and move around.

I shuffled passed everyone and struck conversation with a few. Most of them were willing, almost enthusiastic to talk to me. I guess if you lie down with Grey you get up with everyone fearful of you.

I steered clear of personal discussions of any kind, consistently revolving the topic back to them. Conversation flowed through the strangest of things: finding out who owned the oldest living pet in the room; what everyone's favourite flavour of Ben and Jerry's was; even how many times someone has visited the Krispy Kreme a few blocks down, on First. I was the only one who hadn't been yet. It brought a ton of disbelief to the floor when I just shrugged my shoulders in response, un-phased by it all.

The afternoon passed slightly faster, more so when Kate willingly came to work in my office with me after grabbing some lunch from the deli. Sawyer had someone bring it to us, instead of letting us head down there ourselves. Kate pulled a face but I caved, giving up the fight. He's just doing his job.

Christian didn't contact me again. I imagined he was in back-to-back meetings all day and didn't have the time to breathe, let alone send me a message. That or he was conscious of bothering me. I'm not sure which. I kept my phone near me just in case, but by the time I hit early afternoon I knew he wasn't going to message me. It didn't stop me from constantly checking though.

* * *

"Are you heading over to Grace and Carrick's place?" Kate asks as we step out onto the street at the end of the day.

We waited until the initial rush subsided before we left. Waiting just twenty minutes more meant that the sidewalks had died down considerably, making it easier to manoeuvre and breathe.

"Yeah –" I turn back to her, having stepped out first, waiting for her to exit the building. I twist my head to my side as I feel Sawyer reach me. He's standing just inches from me, his hands behind his back and feet shoulder width apart. I force a smile. "I'm meeting Christian there. He's got a meeting or something, said he'll drive there when he's done."

"Thank God you're coming too! I need someone there to help me tackle Mia… I'm telling you, all she's done is text me with ideas for my dress, the cake, flowers… I don't know how much more I can take!"

"Ha, getting married in a month doesn't seem so bad now, does it?" I smirk vividly. I remember when we told everyone that we were getting married within a month of our engagement Kate was the first person to chastise us. She tried to tell us that we needed to drag it out, that we'd never be able to plan it in such a short space of time.

"Ana. I'm seriously considering running off to Vegas to get a quickie marriage."

"Mia's not _that_ bad. She means well… and she really did do a great job helping with our wedding." I defend my sister-in-law, even though she did drive me crazy. "I know you want to plan it all on your own but you've got to entertain her. Just sit there and listen to what she has to say, then work the Kavanagh charm and get her to love your plans instead."

"You think that's possible?" She hitches her eyebrow at me, sceptically.

"Not likely, but it's got to be worth a shot." We both burst out laughing for a second, unable to rid the grins stretched over our mouths. "Do you want to ride over to Bellevue with me? I would love the company." I pout, begging her to travel with me.

Sawyer's a silent driver.

"I was hoping you would ask. My car's in the shop so I'm stuck between getting the bus and forcing Elliot to take me everywhere."

I turn to Sawyer and nod my head to me, moving toward the SUV parked up next to us. He rushes to the back, opening the door. I thank him as I slip in, shuffling over to the far side and freeing up the other seat for Kate.

"What happened to it?" I ask, fixing my seatbelt. I slouch back into my seat, sighing, and throw my purse onto the floor between my feet.

"I don't know. It just died on me. I was with Elliot at the time and it just stopped and wouldn't start again… It's gonna be out for the next week or so."

I hear the upset in her voice. Kate's Mercedes is her baby, literally. I'm almost certain that given an ultimatum she'd choose her car over Elliot. I think I recall her telling me that it was gift from her parents, for getting into WSU.

"You can borrow one of mine if you want? Just until the Mercedes is running again." I offer her. Her head snaps to me in an instant, doing a full one-eighty. Her jaw drops, mouth and eyes opening wide. "I rarely use them… Christian loves the R8 though, so you can borrow the convertible. If that's alright?"

"Are you serious?" Kate breathes deeply, laughing from within her throat. "The convertible?"

"It's a Saab."

"You're seriously going to let me loose with your convertible?!" She sounds out the latter, breaking and emphasising its syllables. I nod my head and she shrieks, causing Sawyer to glance up into the mirror with an irritated look in his eyes. "Ana, tell me you're serious?"

"Absolutely… I'll get someone to drop it off at your apartment later." I sit forward, "Sawyer, can you arrange that for me?"

"Of course, Mrs Grey, I'll take care of it myself."

"Thank you."

Kate unhooks her belt and bounces over to me swiftly, throwing her arms around my shoulders and hauling me into her. She does that high-pitched scream as she holds me against her, thanking me repeatedly. I tell her that it's okay, that she can borrow it for as long as she wants which only excites her even more.

I asked her why she's so excited over it. It's just a convertible. It's not too dissimilar to her car, really.

"Are you kidding me?" She pulls back, interrogating my face. "I've seen your cars. Grey really out does himself… Seriously, he takes the whole 'only the best for my wife' to a different world!"

I shrug my shoulders. I prefer my R8, like Christian.

* * *

The sun was starting to set in the sky by the time we arrived at Grace and Carrick's home. Sawyer pulled the car to a stop right outside their porch, giving Kate and I the chance to get out before he circled to find somewhere better to park the car.

Kate helped me from the back, holding the door open for me and offering me her hand so I could leap down. I thanked her, telling her that Christian would send his thanks too. I went on to explain his 'preferences' relating to cars and my pregnancy. Her reaction was a picture.

As I got out I looked around the front of the house, looking for the other SUV or one of the many cars Christian owns, trying to see if he was here yet. I huffed as I found only Elliot's truck and a few other slick, shiny vehicles – none of which were Audi's. Kate met my side and wrapped an arm around my shoulders for a hug before heading off toward the house, taking me with her.

Grace opened the door to us before we even reached the steps leading to the house. She stood beautifully in a cream pencil skirt and a taupe sweater. She flung her arms out as I reached her, welcoming me with a warm hold. Her sweet, Rose perfume tickled my nose as I breathed in her elegant scent. Grace always smells incredible, with that homely Mom aroma that only Mom's seem to have. My Mom always welcomes me with a whiff of Honeysuckle and Peony. I can only wonder what I'll smell like to little Blip when he's born.

"Ana, sweetheart, we missed you." Grace sings to me lightly, rubbing my upper back softly as she holds me to her front. "I'm so glad that you and Christian are home now. How was the trip?"

"It was incredible. We really needed it." I smile knowingly as I tell her this, pulling out of her hold. Her sweet blue-grey eyes look deep into mine, and she nods her head in agreement. "Christian's not here yet, is he?"

"No, not yet –" She strokes her hand down the outside of my arm, "he called earlier this afternoon to say he would be late getting here. He has an appointment in town."

"Yeah, he mentioned it to me." I mumble, stepping out of the doorway and moving into the foyer.

"I'm sure he won't be much longer, dear."

I step into the foyer properly, giving plentiful room for Kate to join me. She slipped passed Grace, the two of them exchanging brief, vacant words. I look at them both, splitting my sight equally between them and noticing that they're both uncomfortable.

Grace's frame is more stand-offish than I've ever seen, and Kate's is dropped and guilty.

_Thanksgiving_…

I nod to myself. Grace was pissed at Kate and Christian after what happened. I shift on my feet, sharing in Kate's guilt. It's me Grace should be pissed at, not Kate.

I quickly try to start communications between them, enquiring after the rest of the family. Grace turns to me, softening, and Kate smiles, mouthing her thanks to me while letting out a restrained breath.

"Mia's upstairs, getting dressed. We were out shopping this morning. She got a few new dresses and was trying them on again for me." She glides passed me, gesturing toward the large reception room. "Elliot's out back looking at the back porch. We're thinking of having it extended."

"And Carrick?"

"Oh, he's caught up in his office on a business call. He picked up a new case a few days ago and has done nothing but work frantically on it since."

We move into the room and I instantly merge toward the larger of the couches, slipping out of my shoes and slumping down onto the cushion. I flick my legs up onto the seat too, pulling a pillow to my stomach to rest there. Kate takes the spot nextt to me, crossing her legs as she perches on the seat hesitantly, and Grace slips herself onto the smaller loveseat opposite.

I look all around the mainly cream room, silence clinging to us as all three of us sit quietly.

I feel Kate fidget beside me, uncomfortable and wishing the world would swallow her whole. She only relaxed when we heard Mia skipping into the room, bringing with her vibrancy and light.

Mia came over to me first, tugging me into her chest and chirping about how pleased she was to see me. She quickly moved onto Kate, equally as quick to mention a caterer she had spoken to yesterday who specialises in weddings. Mia settled next to her Mom, lowering her head onto Grace's shoulder while she kept the air alive and filled with conversation.

She drove us down so many avenues, talking continually about recent events and how she's considering becoming a party planner. Part of me wanted to roll my eyes, but the other side nodded along enthusiastically, knowing that it would be a perfect career for her. She gave us enough of a breath to join in the talks, but I was more than content to just sit there and take it all in, and laugh along with them.

After a little while I started to feel a familiar pressure spread over me, starting low down in my pelvis. In an instant I dragged myself off the couch and to my feet, a painful grimace on my face. Everyone fell quiet as I moved, and I could feel their eyes on me. I looked down at the three of them, each of them edging forward in their seats as if they were preparing to jump up in a flash, if they were needed.

"I need to pee."

I blast down to them, my cheeks firing red soon after. I quickly waddle out of the room, heading down the hallway and into the nearest bathroom I could find.

I made it just in time – just before Blip took away all of my dignity. I groaned as I crept closer, cursing my little invader and wondering why it feels so much worse the closer you get to the toilet.

I chastised Blip even more as I sat there. I was expecting something dramatic like the Niagara Falls or something, but was delivered with a leaky faucet. I checked to make sure I was done before rising and turning to flush, and making my way over to the basin so I could wash my hands and clean myself up a little.

I sprinkle water on my face, refreshing myself, and as I stood there lathering my hands with soap I started to hear a familiar, pacifying voice outside, growing nearer along with a pair of shoes hitting the parquet flooring of the hallway.

"Can I come in?"

Christian calls to me, knocking the door gently. I twist my body toward it and he starts to open it before I gave him my reply.

"Sure. I'm just finishing up."

I turn back to the basin and watch him in the full mirror ahead of me, utterly dazzled as he paces over to me in three, powerful strides. He's wearing just his shirt and pants, the hem only just tucked into his waistband. His sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, and the top few buttons at his collar are undone. The whispers of copper hair peek through the V forming there. I grin as I move my eyes up to his hair, unsurprised by its unruliness and it's casting off in conflicting directions.

"Hey." He breathes to me ardently, reaching my back.

He stoops down a little and nuzzles his face into the side of my neck, stroking his lips onto my skin and breathing his crudely warm breath onto me. He pushes his arms under my elbows, gliding his hands over my stomach until they meet together just above my navel.

With kiss behind my ear he pulls me into his front, his hips pressing firmly into my behind.

"I missed you." His lips dance down the length of my neck, suckling deftly at my jugular. "So much…"

A moan escapes my mouth, my knees growing weak as he suckles and starts to lick his tongue back up to my ear, so slow and deliberate.

"I'm in two minds to merge our buildings together and have us share the same office." Christian growls, flexing his fingers over my stomach.

"Hmm… I don't think we'd get much work done." I purr. I roll my head back, resting it against his shoulder, extending my neck to him. My hands are dripping, the faucet stills running profusely.

"I. Don't. Care."

One of his hands leaves my front, stretching forward to knock off the water. I turn around to him, pushing my wet hands into the small of his back and soaking his shirt in an instant. He doesn't care. He moves forward slightly, pinning me between the counter and his concrete structure. He dips and presses his mouth to mine, merging them together as one.

Our lips dance harmoniously, leisurely and with intrigue. Christian pulls away after a while, asking how I am. He rubs the tip of his nose against mine as I speak to him.

"I'm fine… better for seeing you… a lot better, actually." I murmur, looking up into his eyes. "Are you okay, baby?"

"Perfect." He fixes his mouth to mine again, kissing me once. "I've got my wife in my arms. What more could I want?"

I melt into him, slouching forward and pressing my cheek into his chest. I squeeze my arms around his sides.

"Was your day okay?" He asks, massaging his fingers into the back of my head.

I close my eyes and bury my face into him further. I nod, "on the whole it wasn't too bad." I pause and gulp down a breath. "Christian, I have something I need to tell you."

"Me too –"

I pull away from him, leaning back against the counter and looking up into his face. I toy with my bottom lip before opening my mouth, the words sitting right on the edge of my tongue, waiting to escape and run free.

"Wh –"

"I saw Flynn again today." Christian butts in, jumping in first. "That's why I was late coming here. I went to see him."

"Oh…" I smile weakly, "you did? On your own?"

"Well, Taylor drove me to my appointment." He corrects me. His face is soft. A complete world away from what I was faced with last night. "It went a lot better today." He grins down at me, proudly. It's infectious and extends over my mouth, too.

"Really?"

He nods, "it was still fucking hell and I felt just as angry when I came out, but by the time I got out of the building I just felt so much better. I got Taylor to take me home so I could grab my running gear… I just ran around the house a few times to get it out of my system. Then I showered and changed, and drove here."

"That's great… More than great –"

"It gave me time to unwind and let it all out… I'm going to start doing that now. As soon as I'm done with Flynn I'm going to run… Around the house, down the street, the treadmills, whatever –"

"Christian, if it works…" I beam up at him, feeling warm and alight inside in seeing him so content and calmer than he was less than twenty-four hours ago.

"It's still going to take time, but I can see the light." He looks straight into my eyes, honestly. "I know it's going to get better now. I'm going to get better."

"You don't know how happy I am for you."

"For us, baby. For us…"

We stand there for a moment before the words from before came flooding back to me, running clear across the forefront of my mind.

"I really have to talk to you about something." I start, breathing out gingerly. "At work I… I was going through my mail and I found a –"

"DINNER!"

Christian swings around on the spot as the high pitched squeal burst through the door, Mia slamming it open and standing firm in the doorway. He drops me instantly and I move out of his shadow, finding Mia glaring at us with her arms crossed strongly in front of her.

"I don't even want to know what you were getting up to." She shakes her head and raises her palm to us, "Mom sent me to get you. Dinner's about to be served."

"We'll be there in a minute." He commands to his sister. "We're talking."

"Christian, you know what she's like. Everyone has to be at the table, no excuses. Unless you're sick or –"

"Dead." He finishes off her sentence with a huff. "Yes, I've heard it all before."

They stare each other out for a second, Christian losing and dropping his head to me. His fingers trickle against my wrist, making me lift my head to him and capturing the 'what do I do' expression residing over his face.

I shake my head and smile, slipping my hand into one of his. "It can wait."

"Ana –"

"No, really, it's fine. We can talk about it later." I shush him and starting making my way over to Mia, taking him with me. She turns on the spot, smiling to herself, and starts running whimsically down the length of the hall.

"Grace will understand."

"It's fine!" I retort. "Let's just go eat dinner. We can talk about it when we're at home. You know that if I don't eat I'll get cranky… Blip doesn't like it when I skip meals. He really takes after you on that one."

"If it means you're eating regular meals then I'm grateful for that. He can willingly share that aspect of my personality. Aside from that, I want him to be like you… I want him to be kind and beautiful and warm just like his mother."

* * *

I curl forward, forming a C with my body. I wriggle my butt into Christian lying behind me, wrapped perfectly around my back. He groans as I stroke myself against him, his length reacting first and beginning to swell and strengthen into the top of my thigh. I move a little more, the sounds he's making exciting me. I start to skim my fingers up and down his forearm draped around my waist.

"You know what will happen if you keep doing that." He teases me.

His hand escapes my stomach, moving down to the comforter. He tugs it up and around us, fitting it over my body and covering my nakedness from the room. He secures it around me and settles again, resuming his previous position faultlessly.

I feel his fingers starting to tickle around my bump, fingering me from under the covers. It's a calm and loving touch, sweet and delicate like his kisses on my shoulder. We lie quietly in the dark, Christian speaking to me in his dulcet, honey voice.

"What did you want to tell me earlier?"

"Huh?" I drone, flickering my eyes open slowly.

"At my parents' house. You were going to tell me something… About work, I think?"

"It doesn't matter… just go to sleep, baby." I tell him, already succumbing to slumber.

"Ana, tell me." He presses, his hand coming to a complete stop. "It does matter. You were going to tell me something, now spill."

I push out a sigh before rushing it out to him, "I was going through my mail at work and I found a letter from Danielle."

"Is that it?"

"No. She said sorry for everything that happened and said that she had no idea what Elena was up to –"

"She's probably licking her wounds and is desperate to get her old job back." I feel him shrug around me, dismissing it.

"Christian, she ended it by saying that I need to be careful… She said that Elena's not going to stop until she gets what she wants!"

He sighs, groaning hard and irritatingly.

"You're worrying about that, aren't you?"

I nod my head after a pause, burrowing it into my pillow.

I feel his hand come around my front fully and his chest moulding to my back, lying flush. Skin on skin.

"Baby, Elena can't do jack shit." Christian asserts, hugging me tight. "Wilkes is full of shit. She's probably pissed off everyone and has run out of people she can fuck with."

"But –"

"But, nothing. Ana, we've got a restraining order against Elena. She can't come anywhere near us."

"Oh… I forgot." I dip my chin.

"If she breaks the order I'll sue her. I will bankrupt her and take every last cent off her. I'll make sure that there's not a single day that goes by where she doesn't look over her shoulder in fear that I'll find her, and what I'll do to her when I do… She will not hurt my family."

"I just…"

"Ana, do you trust me?" He asks me bluntly. I answer him mutely. "She's nothing to me, and she's absolutely nothing to you. I'm really not bothered by this. It's just bullshit and a pathetic attempt at trying to cause trouble… That's what Elena does, and that fucking Wilkes has proven to be the same. Baby, if I'm not concerned then you shouldn't be either. There's nothing to worry about."

"I know you're right." I mumble. "She just gets to me. She always has."

"I know she does, and she's uses that to her advantage." He soothes me, rubbing Blip in a large, circular motion. "But, if it makes you feel any better then I'll hire someone to track what she's up to. That way we'll know exactly where she is and what she's doing."

I twist my head to the side, snapping it toward him and looking back at him from the corners of my eyes. "You'd do that?"

"I'll do anything for you. You know I will."

Christian leans forward and presses his lips to my cheek, falling back again and spooning me tenderly.

"Now, stop wasting your time and energy thinking about Elena and that other troll. They're not important. What _is_ important is us looking forward to the holidays… To our _first_ holiday."

I chew down on my lower lip, stilting the eager grin beginning to spread over my face. Everything inside of me starts to tingle and firework and ricochet all over the place.

"It's going to be our very first Christmas together." I hum, butterflies swirling beautifully in my tummy.

"The first of many."


	77. Chapter 77

**Disclaimer: The majority of the characters that are portrayed in this story are those that pertain to the Fifty Shades trilogy by E L James. These characters remain her sole property respectively. The plots and themes explored in this story are those of the author, infamouschelsea. The author is in no way affiliated with James and/or the publishing corporation which produced the original works. Any recognisable brands, places or persons used in the story are the sole property of their respected owners and are not the property of the author. No copyright infringement is intended.**

**Emily** – Thank you, I'm glad you liked it! :) I can't wait to see where it goes either. There will be more Blip related stuff soon. We've got more scans and, of course, Blip's first kick. I'm working off what I've researched and on average this happens around the 20 week marker, give or take. Never been pregnant so I'm having to go off the internet and what I've been told here. Ana's near that point, so it will be happening! x

**Mollie** – Thank you! I hope you like what I've done with this chapter. Hm, I think you might be right on that one? ;) x

**Jaideexo** – Well, I'm glad you liked it even if I didn't think it was great. Glad you're looking forward to more. There will be an end but never a complete end to their story. I have more planned for them yet. Thank you x

**Guest** – I did like that line too! I had to laugh when I did my read through :) x

**MX** – Thank you! I honestly didn't think it was good, but it's great that you think it was :) I love that side of him too. It's pleasant to write him that way. I hope you like this one x

**LA** – Thank you LA! I guess maybe the Ana/Kate storyline could get brushed off if there's a lot of focus on Christian and Ana primarily? But I think it's important to show how close they are, even after everything. Plus, there's a reason for everything I've done… Especially the car business ;) Thanks again! x

* * *

**Sorry for the delay. I've been swamped with assignments and all the stress of that left me exhausted, and I've caught a virus or something from some lovely person as a result. So yeah, feeling truly awful but I'm still breathing, I guess that's something!**

**I hope that you like what I've done with this chapter. A Christmas chapter in April, anyone?**

**As always, the support and love I get off a lot of you really means a lot. It helps to counteract the bad stuff happening too me right now and it also helps me to escape from it all. You're all special to me, not just a number on a screen.**

**Much Love and Hopefully Happy Readings,**

**Chelsea x**

* * *

I feel like a rogue C.I.A agent or something. A pregnant, barefooted agent tip-toeing around the house with the Mission Impossible theme tune on a constant loop in my head.

Standing on the bottom step of the staircase I scan the hallway up and down, checking to see if the coast is clear. I check a dozen times before making the leap and jumping down, scuttling along the floor toward the family room.

I heard some shuffling and faint footsteps appear from behind me. A part of me froze, but the other, more conscious part took over and ordered me to pick up my pace, propelling me into the room as quick as my little feet could take me. I closed the door behind me, falling back against it and resting there for a moment to catch my breath. I look down to my arms currently glued to my chest, to make sure that I haven't squashed the packages I've carried down here, from upstairs.

I was caught up there for almost an hour, fighting a losing battle against the gift wrap and tape.

I've never been great at wrapping, but I thought that by putting Christian's presents in boxes that would be half the war won. I was wrong. Dreadfully wrong. I was sitting awkwardly in the middle of our bed, everything laid out in front of me, having to use my feet to hold the paper in place so I could try to grab the end of the tape in order to tear some off. I'm just glad that I had the mind to lock the bedroom door as soon I came in. I can only imagine what sort of smug grin would sit on his face if he saw me like that.

Pressing my ear against the door I wait until I hear nothing before moving away from it. The blood pumping around in my ears doesn't make it any easier. Even though his presents are wrapped and sealed away from his prying eyes, I'm still conscious that he's only a few doors down. He's held up in his office on a business call to Roz. I sort of zoned out as soon as he mentioned disappearing for a little while, knowing that it was the perfect opportunity for me to sort everything out.

I got one of Christian's presents a week or so ago, when I was out on a spontaneous shopping trip with Grace, Kate and Mia. Of course, I had to sneak away from the pack in order to get it. I used my incontinent bladder as an excuse, successfully managing to run off for ten minutes to pick it and make sure I got the right size. Just thinking about it now makes me squirm.

I only got him one other gift. It's hard to know what to get the man who literally has everything, and if he doesn't have it already he'll go out and get it whenever he wants. I had to think bigger than ever before, but I really set the bar high in terms of holiday gifts: I agreed to marry him as part of his birthday present. How the hell do I top that?

It arrived this morning, leaving me with very little time to take care of it. I've spent the past six days frantically arranging everything for this, spending the better part of three hours on the phone reeling off exactly what I wanted. In all actuality I was reading of a specification list Taylor gave me. Technically he's done all the hard work here, finding everything out for me and having to go behind Christian's back to do it. I can't thank him enough for doing this for me. That guy deserves a medal!

I make my way along the carpet, making a beeline for the tree twinkling from across the room. Christian had it delivered a few days after we returned from vacation, already choosing a Douglas Fir for the house. He said he preferred the fuller looking ones and made a timely remark about how he thought I would prefer a big, thick one too. I was on the couch at the time, my head stuck in a manuscript. I lifted my eyes slowly and found him towering in front of me with his hands on his hips, and the biggest smirk I've ever since stretched over his face. The wink he threw in, and the growing bulge in his pants, topped it off perfectly.

We decorated the tree ourselves, or rather I did. Christian just stood back and did whatever I told him to do. Occasionally I felt his hand making its way up the inseam of my pants, slowly and teasingly palming my thigh until he reached my butt. He rubbed and groped me, positioning himself close behind me so he could actively press against me. The more I shook my head to him, ignoring him, the harder he grinded his hips into me. I chastised him which was just another incentive to him. He's unstoppable.

I drop to my knees and muscle forward, dipping under the branches so I can slide my gifts into the mix of others already sitting beneath the green, red and gold of the giant commandeering most of the space. I place the larger of the two packages in the back, hiding it. I have to leave that one until last. If I don't, none of the others will get opened until New Years! I know what he's like. I set the smaller, newer one right in the front, alongside a variety of other petite boxes.

My Mom sent over our presents while we were on vacation, ensuring that we had them in plenty of time seeing as I'm not going to see her over the holidays. She and Bob are heading to Palm Springs to visit his parents. I returned the favour and sent the gifts from Christian and I via a courier. We have a few more to give her when I see her – some things have to be given in person. Ray's arrived this morning, too. He's staying in Oregon to hang out with José and his family. I can't hide that a large chunk of me sank when I heard that I wouldn't be seeing him at all over Christmas.

This is going to be the first Christmas I'll spend without seeing at least one of my parents. When I was in college I would head back to Portland to stay with Ray, or I'd fly out to Georgia to be with my Mom. It was a routine, something I was accustomed to.

This is my first holiday without my family there.

With a sigh I push to my feet, using a nearby stool as a hoist to lift myself.

I didn't even hear him come in. I only knew he was there when I felt his arms wrap around my waist, and his lips feathering my temple delicately as he pulled me into him.

"I'm your family, too." Christian whispers to me, holding me tightly. "I know you miss them and that it's going to feel strange but I'm here. You've got me, baby."

"I know… I know. I'm sorry." I mumble.

"Shh… Baby, don't _ever_ apologise for missing your parents." I feel his chin drop to my shoulder. "It's normal to miss them. I can't even begin to imagine what it must feel like. I've never spent a holiday away from my family, no matter how much I tried to get out of it… But, your family's a lot bigger now. You're not alone. You'll never be alone."

I sink against him, rolling my head toward him receptively.

"You'll always have me."

"And Blip…" I add. "Just think, this time next year we'll have a seven month old."

"That's a scary thought."

I nod. _God, that really is terrifying!_

Christian coughs a little and releases me. He side-lines me and moves forward, quickly turning the conversation around. I don't think either of us is ready to think that far ahead. Blip has to get here first. He has to get here healthy with ten fingers and ten toes.

"So… What did you get me?" He talks back to me, already crouching down and ducking near the presents. He stretches out to pick one, heading straight for the one I've just put there.

"No!" I push forward and grab him by the shoulder, tugging him away from temptation. "Hey! No snooping! You only have one more day to wait!"

"Jeez, I was just going to feel the box." He groans in that pissed off teenager voice.

I look up at him as he rises to his feet again, finding his lips pouting heavily. He crosses his arms in front of him grumpily, having been caught doing something he shouldn't have. I shuffle in front of him and snake my arms around his sides, pushing my hands into the small of his back. He remains solid for a second, but soon softens and coils around me. His lips plummeting to my forehead.

"Fine –" He caves. "But, you're going to have to find a way to distract me."

"_Really?_" I ask innocently. "Anything you have in mind?"

"You… Lying on my desk…" He lifts his hand to my face, bringing his thumb to perch on my lips. He strokes them, toying and parting them slightly. "Completely naked."

I gulp. I feel everything south contract and slicken. "And… And…W-Where would you be?"

"Inside you."

* * *

_Hmm_…

I feel something feather up my leg, starting just above my knee and slowly teasing up to my hip. It's light and soft. I hug around my pillow even tighter as a tantalising shiver flickers through me, spreading head to toe. When I felt the warmth coming from it I knew what was tickling my leg. I smiled, and without opening my eyes I turned to face him, puckered my lips and waited for his to meet mine.

He kissed me gently.

"Merry Christmas, Mrs Grey."

I open my eyes and I'm met with his bright and deep greys looking back at me, his smile reflecting through them. I push my arms around his neck, bringing him back down to my level for another, more fulfilling kiss than before. A real 'good morning' kiss.

I hitch my leg to his hip, my bump pressing against his stomach.

"Merry Christmas, Mr Grey." I mimic him. "I love you."

"I love you, too."

I lie there just looking at him, not wanting to move or disrupt this very second. His hand moved to sit around my back, holding me to him. He dipped and kissed the tip of my nose frequently, grinning back at me like a teenager who just got lucky for the first time.

"I suppose we should get moving. I bet you're itching to get to your presents." I tease him. Prodding at his weakness.

"You're all the present I need… Getting to wake up next to you every day, that's like all of my birthdays and Christmases rolled into one, beautifully wrapped gift."

That warm, fuzzy feeling creeps over me.

"You're incredibly sweet and handsome and exquisite sometimes."

"And a complete prick for the rest…" He adds, sneering at me, before merging his mouth with mine again. "But, if I'm truthfully honest, I can't wait to give you my presents. That's what I've been more excited for."

"Ditto."

I mirror him symmetrically, quickly hugging him once more before pushing off the bed. I wriggle down until my feet hit the floor, swinging off the corner and for the first time in a while not feeling nauseous or faint afterwards.

"I'm going to throw on my robe and brush my teeth. I'll meet you downstairs." I call back to him as I move into our bathroom, hearing him bounce off the bed. "And don't open anything until I'm down there!"

I hear him groan before the door shut behind me.

* * *

"Christian –"

I exhale his name, sounding it out breathlessly with a lump in my throat. My hand pushes up to my throat, cupping it securely as I struggle to take it in.

"This is… Much… Too Much…"

"It's not." He tells me inanely. "Believe me, I wanted to get more. This is miniscule in comparison."

I shake my head at him and the fifteen or so gifts stacked high in front of me. I know he could have given me more. This really is miniscule to what he is capable of. I could have been faced with another car, neatly tucked into the corner of the room.

As soon as we finished opening the gifts from other people he told me that he wanted me to have his first. I didn't object to it, but I instantly felt guilty when I saw exactly how many he had got me. He just kept pulling them out from under the tree, a seemingly never-ending stash. I glanced down at the remaining two, feeling inept and asinine. I know he noticed my lack of austere too, but it didn't stop him from focusing on me wholly, nor did it shift the all-teeth-showing smile on his lips.

I pause for a second before reaching for the nearest package. Christian places himself at my side, cross legged with his hands fidgeting excitedly in his lap. He's eager to watch this and see my reaction. He gets so much more out of giving than he does receiving. _My care giver_…

I push aside the more approachable pile from my Mom, Bob and Ray. Their gifts are much less threatening, and don't ooze impressive prices. They're things you'd find at Target or at the nearest Mall. Easily sought after and reasonably priced.

Mom and Bob sent over a few maternity items – a dress, sweaters and some baby clothes too -, and the traditional truck load of bathing products I've been getting since I was fifteen years old. Ray got me a beautiful, silver picture frame. It's a three-piece set, all rolled into one and connected, each section for my little Blip. The first is engraved with 'my first sonogram' on it, the second with 'almost here', and the third 'my birthday'. I shed a small tear as I uncovered it. Ray might not be the best shopper but he out does himself when he really puts his mind to it.

When I got to the end of the pile I was shocked to find a small, pink box left. I almost missed it completely, only alerted to it when Christian nudged me with his elbow. I brought it closer and checked the tag, my Mom's writing telling me that it was from all three of them. Confused, I opened it and found a platinum charm glistening at me. I removed it from the sweet box and it sat coldly in my palm. It's a heart. A shiny, platinum heart with a diamond fixed in the upper right swell of it. I turned it over and saw two words engraved on the back: _Beautiful Daughter_.

Well, that was it. I completely lost it then, unable to hold in the waterworks.

Christian threw an arm around me and pulled me close to him for comfort, soothing me, before taking it off me and quickly attaching it onto my bracelet. I wondered why he ordered me back upstairs to fetch it. He fed me some crap, telling me that he loves to look at my wrist and be reminded of all the magical times we've shared with each other. I should have known he was up to something. It was obvious really.

He was given a wide selection of male grooming kits from my parents, none of which he needed, or would want, but accepted gratefully all the same. I don't think it mattered to him that they're products he would never use. I think it meant more that they simply thought of him, and didn't leave him out. He went quiet for a little while after opening them.

"Well?"

Christian prompts me. My eyes automatically fall to my hands and the gift he's setting in them eagerly. I smile and begin to unwrap it, peeling away the red ribbon and shiny paper. He starts bouncing a little as I pull off the lid and push the tissue to one side. I find a large, navy leather tote inside, the new and strong smell escaping loudly. I pull it out and look at the austere gold plate on the front of the bag, my full name set on it in a fine script.

"Custom made?" My voice breaks, going up an octave. He nods. His eyes and mouth beam back at me.

"Only the best for my wife! It's multipurpose, too. You can use it as a purse or as a changing bag for when the baby's here." He reaches across and unhooks the buckle, opening it out for me. "See… There are compartments for everything! Diapers, wipes, bottles, spare clothes… Isn't it fantastic?!"

I giggle as he fusses over it. He narrows his eyes at me, questioning what he did to excite the latest drastic mood shift. I couldn't answer him. I just grinned and pawned over him and his delight.

While he was distracted with the bag, pondering over the possibilities and all of Blip's things that can go in it, I pushed through the mountain of paper bound around strange shapes in front of me – my name on every single one.

I uncovered ridiculously expensive perfumes. I rolled my eyes when I saw the labels, but when I tested them I was surprised to find them subtle and sweet, not overpowering at all – not how I expected them to be. I thought of Blip, wondering if they'll be my smell. _My Mom smell_.

Also, waiting for me were three familiarly wrapped boxes from Christian's beloved Cartier. A set of matching droplet earrings, pendant and a tennis bracelet, all with a stunning blossom flower design, diamonds set in every corner imaginable. The light overhead gleamed off them, making it hard to look at it for too long through fear of going blind or feeling the burn in Christian's wallet. I started to subconsciously tally up the cost, my cheeks firing red as the dollar signs flew around the room.

I found other must haves in the selection: a few more Cartier pieces to add to my ever growing collection, and a few personalised accessories for my iPad. I began to feel better when the pile dwindled down, even more so when I came to two, hideously wrapped presents at the bottom of the load. The paper was mismatched and torn in several places, and it looked like Christian had used a whole roll of tape on them, huge clumps of it evident from here.

_He's done this himself_.

My heart thuds a little harder as I draw them to me. I smile, picturing him struggling with the task of trying to wrap something for himself – something I know he has never done before!

I take the smaller one first, the box like the one I got from my parents. When I got through the green paper I found it was pink too, and I knew instantly what it was. I opened it and found another silver charm inside: a Conch seashell. Christian brightened up when he realised I had gotten to the personally wrapped presents, and he came back to me and told me that it's a reminder of our vacation: a permanent reminder of the trip that saved us... And him.

He fixed it to my now, much fuller bracelet like he had with the previous. After, he pulled my wrist to his mouth, lightly kissing the shell before tickling his plump lips over each of my knuckles.

In the second and final gift, I found a white, heart shaped box with a fluorescent pink ribbon sealing it off in one of the corners. I eyed it and him sceptically, a boyish smirk bouncing off his face. Removing the lid I was faced with different coloured laces, all folded and standing in up-ended swirls. Pink, red, white and nude lace staring back at me, Rose-like. Intrigued I took one out, it instantly unfolding and revealing barely there panties.

I splutter, spreading the hem of it between my hands. My mouth falls open like a bobbing goldfish. I turn my head to him as I hear him snigger at my side.

"What?" Christian shrieks while trying to suppress his laughter. "You're always saying how I've ruined a ton of your panties. These can be a replacement, or ones that I'm allowed to ruin… Actually, I think I like that idea more."

"You're unbelievable." I mouth, blushing.

"What can I say? I like the sound of the material snapping as I rip it from your delectable little ass, Mrs Grey."

"Christian!"

He springs onto all fours, clawing his way over to me in a heartbeat. His devil eyes are low and on the prowl, his tongue lashing over his lips like I'm his prey and he's a hungry, passionate Lion ready to pounce.

I push my hand up to his mouth just before he came at me, his lips puckering into a rejected pout. He moaned and I shushed him.

"Baby, I want to give you my gifts now."

It was enough to distract him.

He spun and grabbed the two remaining things under the tree, removing them and leaving the space now free and cluttered with fallen spines.

He sat himself proudly at my side, ready to tear through the gift wrap and find out what toys I got him. I stopped him, clamping my hand around his wrist and ushering him to slow down.

"I want you to open this one first." I point to the smaller gift, the one I put the most effort into getting him.

He nodded and tore open the paper, undeterred by the plain, manila coloured box I put it in – the original packaging was awful, and gave too much away. He opened it and pushed aside the few pieces of tissue I packed it with, and pulled out the miniature, white helicopter sitting inside.

"Wow… Another one for the collection?" He smiled as he examined it, reaching across and planting a loud and wet kiss on the side of my head. "Thank you. I love it! Is it solar powered, too?"

I nod my head modestly. "Specially made for you… Do you like it?"

"I fucking love it. Baby, it's fantastic… It's so sleek and pristine." He muses over the wide, rounded windows at the front. He brings it closer to his face as he looks inside, at the mock-up of leather, padded swivel seats in the all-white cabin.

"It's an EC155." I tell him. He snapped his head to me, shock spreading over his face. I smirk. _Oh yes, I know what I'm talking about._

"I'm impressed."

"So, what do you think of it? It's nice, right?"

"It's… beautiful. I'm thinking that I may need to get one at some point."

I cough.

"There's no need." I speak quietly to him.

I lean closer to his ear.

"It's yours."

"What?" He bites, his eyes morphing into a shocked expression I've seen before, about five months ago. "Ana… _What?_"

"It's yours. Obviously a much larger version of that."

"But, this –" He lifts the replica in his palm.

"Baby, there's not enough gift wrap in the world to cover the real thing. This is just something small, until you go and check it over for yourself… And name it, of course."

"Name it? You haven't already?"

"It's not mine." I shrug my shoulders to him.

"Wow…" His eyes fall to his hand again. "Ana. This really is… I mean… Why?"

"I've told you, I just don't feel that Charlie Tango is safe anymore and it makes me feel sick thinking of you going out in that thing. At least now, with this one, I know you're going to be safe… I've had it checked over eight times already for safety!"

Christian reaches up with his free hand, moving it around the back of my neck and pulling me into him.

"You are incredible." He brings his forehead to rest against mine. "You are fucking incredible. I love you."

"I love you, too."

I look straight into his eyes. He shakes his head against me, astonished. We could have stayed like that for a while but I pressed him, asking if he had any names for it – for the upgrade. He hummed until he found an answer.

"I can only think of one name."

He paused and blinked at me with a knowing eye.

"Alpha Charlie Tango."

"Huh? I don't get it." I answer him, clueless. He laughs at my ignorance.

"Alpha Charlie Tango… It stands for Anastasia –" He lowers his palm to my heart, resting it there for a second, "Christian –" He places his other hand over his, having set down the toy chopper. After a brief pause he pulls both hands down, cupping them over my stomach, "Theodore."

"Christian…" I feel my eyes tearing up and my heart melting in my throat. "Little Blip?"

"You still like Theodore, right? I know it's still early but I love our name for him. If you're having second thoughts then –"

"No. No, I love it too, it's just… He might be a girl."

"Then we'll call her Thea or something… Or it could stand for something else completely."

A warm glow burns inside me.

"Together."

"Together."

_Anastasia and Christian, together_.

I lifted off my behind and launched my arms around his neck, sealing my mouth over his.

Christian and I were late heading over to Bellevue. We made it just in time for dinner, forced into giving out and opening presents after stuffing our faces and stomachs full of delicious carbs – a poultry free zone, courtesy of my in-laws.

Grace gave a disapproving smile when we eventually showed up, but Christian softened it, telling her he was caught up with playing with his new toys. I blushed and squirmed, squeezing his hand hard as he tried to sustain the laugh brewing inside him.

I called my Mom and Ray later in the day, relishing in the little time I had with them before joining my new family once more.

Christian didn't have time to open up his other present before we left so I brought it with us, knowing that we would be spending the night here. I immediately took it up to his old bedroom, placing it on the bed for later – for when we were alone. I didn't exactly savour in the idea of him opening it up and revealing the white, sheer lingerie set to his entire family. That was for his eyes only.


	78. Chapter 78

**Disclaimer: The majority of the characters that are portrayed in this story are those that pertain to the Fifty Shades trilogy by E L James. These characters remain her sole property respectively. The plots and themes explored in this story are those of the author, infamouschelsea. The author is in no way affiliated with James and/or the publishing corporation which produced the original works. Any recognisable brands, places or persons used in the story are the sole property of their respected owners and are not the property of the author. No copyright infringement is intended.**

**LA** – Thank you so very much! I didn't anticipate how difficult it would be to write Christmas in April, so to know it's gone down well it fantastic. I want a helicopter too, so you're not alone there! I'm glad you think that :) I'm working on an original piece alongside this, so fingers crossed both will work out well! X

**Guest** – Well, I'm glad I made you laugh! :) Thank you to you, too! X

* * *

**I'm so very glad that Christmas lived up to expectations, or rather the expectations that nobody but me really had. Hm, yeah, that confused me too… Moving on quickly! So, we had Christmas but what about New Year's Eve? ;)**

**This is just a mini-chapter, or scene if you rather. I haven't got the time to write a full piece right now – assignments and revision – but I still wanted to get something out to you.**

**It's my birthday on Sunday – turning the ripe ol' age of 20 - and I'd love to share it with each and every one of you. You've all helped and inspired me tremendously, and offered kindness and support in times when I've been less than enthused. This is a gift to you. As always, my love and thanks to you is endless!**

**Much Love and Happy Readings,**

**Chelsea x**

* * *

"You… Are… So… Fucking… Beautiful."

Christian pants between his fleshly kisses along my neck.

I'm being walked backwards into his bedroom, one hand cupped around the back of my neck and the other stumbling out to flick on the lights. I clutch and dig my fingers into the lapels of his jacket, lifting myself up onto my toes and into the way of his lips.

I meet his mouth and dip my tongue in, thrashing it against his lengthily.

He curses and pulls away from me a little, releasing me and drawing his attention to the switch he can't find. I'm breathless. I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand, feeling my lips tingle and pine for his. After a beat he finds it, the room illuminating in an instant and showing his face in full, fervent brilliance.

"Absolute perfection –" Christian mouths, his eyes running up and down my body.

"I could say the same about you." I retort.

My stomach and everything south of there is writhing. My hands are desperate to run all over his body, head to toe. I've been eager since we arrived. Christian Trevelyan-Grey in an Armani suit, less the tie and the top button of his shirt, is one beautiful, sexy and panty-dropping sight.

He strides over to me. He fists his left hand into his pants pocket, his right undoing his jacket. I can feel my knees starting to give way under me and my apex slickening, readying itself for him.

"I'll be right back –" He groans as he meets me. He stoops and smacks his lips to mine, kissing me chastely. I whine and he silences me. "I'll be two minutes. Just two minutes, baby."

"The party…" My mind drifts to downstairs, the music still bouncing from up here.

"Fuck the party. I want to start my new year with a bang."

He smirks, grinning as he kisses me once more before sauntering off and out of his room, and out of sight. I tilt on my feet, staring after him as he leaves and finding myself rocking on the spot absently. I feel bereft of him, having spent all night with his hands and eyes on me.

He's been completely devoted to me all evening. All day, if I'm honest.

We arrived here, at the Bellevue mansion turned party central, at six - as requested by the youngest Trevelyan-Grey. Tonight has been Mia's first official party as the sole planner. The only input she's had was courtesy of Christian's credit card. All evening she's been irate and on-edge, much to everyone's frustration – Ethan most of all. He's dutifully followed her around, picking up the flack in the aftermath of her fury at somebodies inability to set a plate down perpendicularly to everything else on the table. I glanced over to him a couple of times, the signature Kavanagh, 'well and truly pissed off' expression etched over his face. But, he continued to be her lap-dog, softening when she reluctantly agreed to a dance.

The strange thing is, while Mia was playing the psycho in the family Christian was chilled and lenient, allowing everything to just wash over him coolly. Talk about Freaky Friday… Or Saturday, to be accurate.

Shortly after Mia went all tactical rundown on us we started 'mingling'. It was our role to walk around and greet her 'chosen few', which actually equated more than two-hundred people. Grace and Carrick were on the doors with Mia and Ethan, welcoming guests as they arrived, and Kate and Elliot were off doing what they do best… I shudder as I think about _that_.

While we walked his hand was permanently settled on my hip, pinning me to his side with his arm flush along my back. I copied him and pushed my hand under his jacket, palming the bottom of his spine in that dip just above his butt. We both grinned honestly, not a single care in the world. Even through dinner we were inseparable. We sat with our hands intertwined and resting on my thigh, forced into eating with one hand or, like we were, feeding each other. I know that if I was on the outside looking in at us I'd be revolted and sickened by such a sight of affection, but I didn't care who saw us or what they thought. I was happy. Christian was happy. That was all that mattered.

I hum a little tune to myself as I shift on the spot, growing impatient while I wait for him to return. I look all around the room in its grey, white and blueness, finding myself wandering to take a closer inspection.

I shuffle around the floor and overt to the dresser, tracing my fingertips along the wood as I go, until I meet with the desk on the far side. Every time I come up here I think of my teenage Christian sitting right there, refusing to do his homework and instead planning how he can next get up to mischief, to which I know probably included fights and booze... Or both, for that matter.

"I'll ground you if you take after him!" I chastise my bump.

Blip can take after Christian in many ways but that's a hard limit. Along with middle-aged cougar paedophiles.

I set my hands down on the chair, looking up at the noticeboard ahead of me, and a confused and puzzled look takes over my face.

The pictures and mementos that were once stuck there have disappeared, replaced with a collage of… _Me_.

The whole board is full of my face, profile and body. Christian's there in a lot of them, Blip too. I see the photo from my graduation in the mix of pictures from his birthday party and mine, our wedding and even a few honeymoon snaps – the appropriate, family-friendly ones! But as I scan the board I'm shocked to find photographs I've never seen before, let alone known when they were taken. One of them is of me asleep, the comforter pulled right up under my chin, my cheeks flushed slightly as I dream. I make a note to ask him when he took it, and to reprimand him at the same time.

I jump as I feel hands creep around my front, something hard pressing into my behind.

"I told you I wouldn't be long." His breath strokes my ear as I lean back against him. I reach up with my hand, caressing the side of his face. "Miss me?"

"Always."

I turn to face him, wrapping both arms around his neck. Christian smiles and embraces me for a second before retreating and moving away, toward the dresser next him. He picks up the bottle there and shuffles the two Champagne flutes so they're side-by-side.

"Christian –"

"Non-alcoholic." He tells me, pre-empting what I was about to question. "Peach flavoured."

I nod, smiling, while he pours the bubbled, flesh coloured drink into the two glasses. He extends one out to me, setting the bottle down before picking up his and chinking it against mine.

"To us."

"To us." I repeat him, sipping my drink in perfect harmony with him. It's good. It's refreshing - much better than the Orange and Cranberry juices I've been stuck on all evening. I stare back at him, glancing past his body to the door.

"It's locked. I've spoken to my parents and Mia. I told them we were coming up here and retiring for the night."

"What reason did you give them?" I butt in.

"Oh, just that my wife's horny and I'm desperate to be inside her so I can make sweet, sweet love to her all night." He tells me, nonchalant and blasé. My mouth falls open and he laughs, "You're so easy to wind up sometimes. You really think I'd say that to them?"

"I wouldn't put anything passed you!"

"Neither would I, but I didn't tell them that. I just told them that you were tired. They understood, you know, because of Blip."

I take another sip of my drink before placing it on the desk behind me. My eyes drop to the floor for a moment, looking down at my feet as I slip out of my silver pumps. I groan as I feel the carpet tickle my soles, my poor feet thanking me profusely.

"Undressing already?" Christian smirks into his glass, finishing it off.

I remain silent, looking up at him through my lashes. I tease my lower lip between my teeth, sashaying my body across the floor and over to him. As I meet him I flatten my palms against his chest, skimming them up to his collar. I press up onto my toes, swiftly undoing his shirt and tugging it free from his pants. He's already taken off his jacket, it's lying on the chair near the door.

He stares down at me, tutting. He questions my motives and intent. I shrug naively.

"I just want to see you… All of you." I whispered, pushing my fingers under where his shirt previously covered. His chest is warm. Seductively warm. "I want to be naked with you."

He groans that throaty noise I love. The one that shoots spasms up through my core. He doesn't say anything, allowing me undress him fully. I'm quick in freeing him of his clothes. I took my time as I pulled his zipper apart, even slower as I played with the elastic of his Calvin Klein's just before I unleashed his impressive and thickened length to the room.

Christian stopped me from going any further. It was his turn to free me.

He turned me by the shoulders so he could expose my back to him, his deft fingers quickly pulling the zip of my grey, empire-waist dress down. I shivered as I felt his fingers feather my naked spine. I couldn't wear a bra tonight – my breasts barely fit in the dress as it was - so I feel my hardened nipples chafe against the chiffon of the dress. I cowered even more when he dropped the straps off my shoulders and down the length of my arms, allowing it to fall to the floor and fan out around my ankles.

He took me by the hands and drove me over to the bed, placing me down on it and beckoning me to lie back. I did as he told me, pushing back up the length of it until my head reached the top.

He stood erect at the end, between my feet, taking me in fully.

I reached out for him, urging him to join me and he did, painstakingly slow.

Starting at my feet Christian kissed his way up my leg. His lips moulded around my ankles, my calves, my thighs. I arched my back as he grew nearer to my centre, anticipating his mouth there, feeling his tongue divide and conquer me.

"Always so eager –" He hums, lashing the full width of his tongue along me. "And so delicious."

"Baby…" I feel my legs shaking, the trembles tearing through me. He continues to thrill me before moving upward and away from the swollen, pulsating part of me.

His hands cup my hips as he moves his chest up between them, his mouth suckling from my pelvis to my navel, taking calculated and loving kisses. He moaned his appreciation, one hand clutching my side tenderly.

I pushed my hands to the back of his head, running my fingers through his gloriously copper hair to feel his dampened scalp. That's when I felt it.

"Whoa!"

I bolt upright. Christian stumbles back, too. Our eyes immediately drop to my stomach, the location of the twinge I just felt there. The powerful, believable nudge I just felt inside of me.

My mouth is faltered into a temporary state of numbness. I look up to Christian. He's kneeling between my legs, his mouth as open and wide as mine, and his eyes mimicking them perfectly.

"W-What… What was… _that_?" He stumbles a few jagged words, pointing at my bump with a shaking finger. "Was that… _Blip_?"

"You felt that?" I ask, pleading that he says yes. He nodded his head once. "You felt him…"

"He moved… He really moved?" He questions, struggling to deter his eyes from my stomach. I nod proudly, a grin breaking free across my lips. "Was that the first time he's done that?"

"First time like that. Before it was just a flutter but that was a proper thing… That was a kick."

I start laughing, giggles ripping through my chest. I stroke my hands over Blip.

"Baby, that was him. That was Blip. Little Blip."

My laughing awakens him, causing him to reflect and join me in my excitement. He pounds forward, closer to me, and cups his hands around our baby, getting there just in time to feel another jab from under my skin.

"Fuck… My baby… Ana, he's real." Christian beams at me, in pure boyish delight. "He's really real."

"I told you… I told you that you would be here when he did it. I knew you wouldn't miss it."

"I know. Baby, I know." He looks up into my eyes, his clouding with tears. I shake my head at him and tug his face to mine, caressing my lips over his face and removing the lone streams that sank from his eyes. "It's amazing... I can feel him."

"I love you, Christian. I love you so much."

"I love you, too… Both of you -"

Christian woke fully, kissing me with a renewed touch. His hands moved all over my body: our Blip, my behind, and up my spine… His fingers moved into my hair, untangling the bun I had it in and letting it fall free around my shoulders, waves bouncing merrily as they dropped.

His mouth didn't leave mine, following me as I lay down again.

He hovered over me, only lightly pressing his abdomen to mine – his concern for our baby more present than ever before.

He was gentle as he rocked my hips wider apart, even slower and more tentative as he glided himself into me.

Christian made euphoric, delicate love to me that night. He kissed me and made me like I was flying through the stars, exploring new heights and dimensions of our impenetrable bond. We reached our explosive climax simultaneously, crying out into a place that only we knew and shared.

No one else could hear us. No one else knew what had happened between us in the moment before we came together. It was our precious, miraculous secret.

He lay behind me, folded perfectly around my body, holding me tightly to him as we regained our breaths.

We stared out through the window to the sapphire sky.

Christian reached behind him and hit off the lights, from a hidden switch beside the bed, when we saw the first flare tear up through the stars. The others quickly followed, shining bright in heavenly gold's, silver's and the purest white. We heard the cheers that brought in the New Year to us.

I felt his hands glide over my stomach and finding mine resting there. He locked his fingers between mine and waited to see if our miracle would join us again. But, for now, he slept quietly in the warmth I gave him.

"Thank you for making this year the best I've ever had."

"Thank you for spending the rest of your life with me." I whispered to him, revelling in our private show.

* * *

**I hope you liked this chapter. I liked writing it :)**

**To my American readers. My thoughts, prayers and love is with you in this tragic week. Stay strong and know that we are all standing with you. Sending my love and hugs to you, from across the Atlantic xxx**


	79. Chapter 79

**Disclaimer: The majority of the characters that are portrayed in this story are those that pertain to the Fifty Shades trilogy by E L James. These characters remain her sole property respectively. The plots and themes explored in this story are those of the author, infamouschelsea. The author is in no way affiliated with James and/or the publishing corporation which produced the original works. Any recognisable brands, places or persons used in the story are the sole property of their respected owners and are not the property of the author. No copyright infringement is intended.**

**Ellie** - Glad you liked it! At the moment Ana's about 22 weeks pregnant, so just passed the half way point :) I'm not going to start rushing through stuff, or skip out on a lot of pregnancy time, but I'll try and keep things flowing with time jumps when appropriate. Things will change when Teddy arrives, but for the better I'm sure :) (Sorry if I already answered this review!) x

**Tammy** - Thank you! I'm glad you liked it x

**MX** - Glad to have you back! :) You've been missed! But, that is a great thing in being able to catch up - having updates ready for you, for once! I loved that update, too! The past two have been full of delicious loveliness! A fantastic change. Much Love! x

**Guest 1** - I'm super glad you loved it! Always such a lovely, fantastic thing to hear, thank you! x

**LA** - Thank you! I had a great birthday! This is definitely something I will pursue, and hopefully it'll lead to good thing! :) Thank you again LA, you're a star! x

**Guest 2** - Glad you liked it! I thought it was lovely too. You're welcome. Continually sending my love and hugs to everyone in the States, and all over the world :) x

* * *

**Thank you for the reviews on the last chapter. I'm glad you liked it as much as I did! Their New Year certainly started with a bang and a little Blip making his presence known!**

**Thank you for the birthday messages! It was lovely of you :) I had a wonderful birthday!**

**A little heads up, exam season is fast approaching which means a delay is likely! It might be a little longer before I can grab some time to write but, as ever, I will try to get something as soon as I can! The delay, which I hope won't happen but probably will, will probably be a few weeks maximum. Feel free to send me a message or something to check on progress or to see if I have an update in the works! **

**Big thanks for the continued support! I keep saying this but it is always appreciated!**

**Much Love and Happy Readings,**

**Chelsea x**

* * *

"What?"

"Hmm –"

"Christian –"

"Hmm –"

"Christian!" I exclaim, snapping at him. I stop what I'm doing and glare at him through the mirror in front of me.

My beloved, reserved, and mature husband is sitting on the edge of our bed, ogling me, with his tongue wagging like a dog. He's hunched forward, his elbows on his knees and his chin resting on his hands. An aroused, indecent look encompasses his face as he watches me, distracted and fascinated. I stare him out, waiting for him to lift his eyes from my butt and meet with mine.

"Christian!" I shout louder, finally shaking him out of his trance.

"Huh?" He straightens his chest and shakes his head, "I'm sorry, what?"

"You were staring… You've been sitting there staring at me for the past twenty minutes!" I nag him, rolling my eyes. "I thought you were supposed to be getting ready?"

"I was… I got distracted when you started parading around the place naked."

"I am not _parading_ anywhere!" I object, spinning on the spot to face him. I snarl and push my hand out towards him and shake it repeatedly, showing him the bottle in my hand. "I just got out of the shower… I came in here to put my lotion on!"

He smoulders at me for a few seconds before that smirk started to creep in, and his laughing became uncontainable. He lifts his hands in surrender.

"You're an ass." I grumble, turning my back on him again.

I struggle to flip the lid on my bottle, wanting to squeeze some more lotion into my hand, and find myself breaking into full-on Christian Grey 'fuck' moment until it pops, and shoots thick, white fluid high into the air. It squirts onto the mirror and I clumsily try to catch some of it, creating more of a mess by smearing it everywhere.

"See, baby, I can make you squirt without even touching you."

I feel his breath on the back of my neck, warming the bareness free of my hair that's pooled into a bun. I shiver as I feel him surround me, his arms coiling around mine. He stoops, and lowers himself far enough down so he can rest his chin on my shoulder and nuzzle into my neck.

"You're disgusting…" I hum, his lips starting to caress that spot where my pulse beats harder and my insides squirm when he kisses it.

"Disgusting _and_ an ass? Hm, I'm doing well this evening." Christian laughs, kissing his way to my cheek. His lips tickle as he whispers against me, "Have I told you how beautiful you are?"

"Only once today…" I grin and twist my head toward him, pushing my lips into the way of his. I push my tongue into his mouth, dancing with his waiting for me.

"This is amazing to see… You… Standing here, in front of the mirror… Looking at yourself –" He mutters between kisses, his voice deep and breathy. "It's amazing, beautiful… It doesn't bother you anymore, does it?"

I shake my head, blinking once.

"Amazing," he breathes, grinning. "You wouldn't have done this a month ago."

"I wouldn't have done this a _week_ ago." I correct him, "Things are different now… I like it. I like my bump."

"I like it too. I like resting my head on it and feeling Blip kick me."

I smile. I love it when he does that too. I wake up every day to Blip's early morning workout session, and it's incredible. He moves around like crazy in there, swirling and kicking out at me. He kicks harder when Christian talks to him, even more when he presses his cheek cleanly to my stomach and starts humming a lullaby. I think his favourite is Frère Jacques, he juts around like a mad man when he hears that.

Christian and I kept Blip's moving around a secret for a few days – we wanted it to be _our_ thing, even though I wanted to share him too. We spent the first couple of days of the New Year at Bellevue, with our family. It was hard to pretend like I wasn't feeling anything, worse when Christian wanted to place his hand over my bump to feel it as well. We were rumbled when Elliot found us on the couch, Christian's hands firmly on my stomach and a beaming grin on his lips when he felt the baby move. Elliot was quick to tell everyone, each of them taking it in turns to rub and wait for little Blip to say 'hi' to them.

He didn't move for Kate, at all. I tried to reassure her that it didn't mean anything, that he was probably tired and ready for a nap, but she wasn't convinced. The fat ass smirk on Christian's face didn't help!

"He's changed everything for me. Feeling him properly, knowing that he's really in there, it's sort of changed how I see things." I mumble, lowering my hands to cover the widest part of me, "I don't mind feeling nauseous most of the time, or that I struggle to keep a lot of what I eat down… or that my bladder is on overdrive… the stretch marks… None of it matters now. I'm getting a baby out of this. I'm getting Blip."

"Yes, we are. Little Theodore Grey."

"Theodore _Raymond_ Grey." I correct him. He drops his hands over mine, slotting his fingers between the gaps, "or Baby Girl Grey."

Christian hums his reluctance to accept that possibility, dead set on us having a boy. I sure we are too, but there's still that niggling doubt that resides inside me - something pressing me not to run out and start buying all blue things to fill the nursery with. I don't mind what we have, but I think I'd like a son first. A Christian before an Ana.

"What time are you leaving?"

"Six. I have to pick up my Dad and Elliot first, before we fly down to Ray and head to the game."

"Be careful." I murmur to him, closing my eyes slowly. "Please, be careful. I want you home in one piece."

"I'm always careful, Ana. What happened before, with Charlie Tango, was different… Hy-"

I cut him off before he could finish. "I know."

"_Alpha_ Charlie Tango is safe. You've made sure of that... She's had tracking installed for fucks sake."

"I need to know where you are, too. It works both ways."

"I know." He mimics me, squeezing me closer into his chest. "Only, I'm not going to bitch about it… Unlike someone I know…"

I retract my elbow and catch him in the ribs, causing him to hunch forward and take me with him. He feigns injury, acting up on his 'innocent' remark.

"You need to be careful and get home safely so that I can kick your ass!"

"You can have my ass any time, Mrs Grey." Christian laughs into my ear, kissing me there once more before releasing me and starting to move away, "And don't think I didn't see you roll your eyes at me."

I push my air out fast, "well then, what are you going to do about it? Spank me?"

_Shit._

As soon as it escaped my mouth I regretted it, and flushed with embarrassment and idiotic despair. _Why the hell did I say that_?

Christian stops where he is and turns back to me, his face soft and free of any expression.

"Christian… I'm sorry, I didn't know what I was –" I start rambling and he silences me by raising one of his hands.

"It's okay. Ana, it's okay." He's calm. "It's okay now… It's something me and Flynn have worked on."

"Huh?"

He smiles at me, proudly.

"You're not the only one who's starting to see things differently now."

* * *

"No…"

I groan, shying away from being pulled from my slumber. I was warm and peaceful and content there. Now, I'm cooler, groggy and a grouch.

I feel it again.

I feel something feather down the side of my face, tickling me. It's warm and soft, familiar even.

I fumble around for the sheets, wanting to cover myself with them, but I bumped into an arm stretched out over me. I felt my way along it, feeling a strong and bare forearm until the rolled up sleeve in the crease of the elbow. I smiled as I held my hand there.

I opened my eyes to find a pair of vivid, dark one's glaring at me, almost level with my horizontal position.

"Shh… It's me. It's just me." He shushes me, bringing his hand up to my cheek again, to cup it. "It's just me, baby."

"You're home." I croak. My voice is as tired and vacant as my senses.

He doesn't say anything back to me, he just stares.

I make to sit up. He quietens me and tells me it's okay, that I should just go back to sleep, but I object and haul myself up. I swing my legs around and out of the bed, to sit flush with the edge. He's crouched in front of me, fully clothed. His hands slowly start to feel their way up my nude thighs, moving up my front and catching the hem of the t-shirt I'm wearing. He tugs it down, to cover me properly instead of it pooled above my swollen stomach.

I glance over to the bedside counter, to grab a look at the time. I have to squint to make out the numbers.

"When did you get back?" I ask him, struggling to decipher one digit from another.

"Not long ago. About ten minutes."

I lean to the side to get a closer look at the clock, my jaw falling to the ground when I finally read it and my brain acknowledges what it means.

"It's almost five in the morning!" I squeak, "Where the hell have you been? You only _just_ got back?"

"Ana –"

"Christian, games do not go on _that_ long." My brows knit together above my eyes, "what happened?"

My bottom lip starts to deceive me, my mind running fast and firing through a million images now flashing through my thoughts.

_The helicopter…_

I sit forward and check him… checking his clothing for signs.

"Ana –" Christian asserts, grabbing me by the wrists and forcing me to look him in the eyes. "I'm fine. Everyone's okay, don't worry."

I hesitate. I start to shake my head at him.

"Ray's at home, Dad and Elliot are home… They're all fine, and a little drunk if I'm honest."

"Then where –"

"I've been at Escala."

"Escala?" I repeat him, perplexed. "All this time?"

He nods, securing his hands around my wrists more firmly. "I got a call just before the end of the game. It was Taylor… He was at the apartment... with the fire department."

"What?"

"Someone broke into the apartment and started a fire." Christian tells me, his voice clear and stable. "It's was contained before it really started to spread... The alarms have a trigger that send a message to Taylor when they are set off. He called the fire department to be cautious. They were able to stop it."

"Was anyone hurt?"

"No… The other residents evacuated when the alarms went off. Luckily only ours was damaged."

I'm silent and unmoving. Cold and paralyzed.

"I've been stuck there with the fire chief assessing the damage. It seems they started the fire in the hallway… The foyer, my office and Taylor's have been ruined. It's a mess." He grinds his teeth together, trying to control his rage.

I reach out and bring my fingers to his face, soothing out the frown setting in.

"How did they get in? That place is locked down…"

"Ana –" Christian utters my name, looking up at me slowly. He doesn't say anything at first. He doesn't need to. I shut my eyes, bracing myself for it. "They got in using the elevator."

I shake my head at him.

"They knew the key code and they had a key to the building."

My breaths deepen. What if… _here_?

"But… If they did that, then…"

"Shh… I called Sawyer and got him to come here as soon as I found out. He's been standing outside the bedroom, making sure that you're safe."

I start to rub my lips together. We're both silent for a little while, until I spoke out.

"I want to see it." I tell him coolly. "I want to go to Escala and see it for myself."

"Why? Baby, you don't have to do that. It's 5am, you need to get some sleep."

"No." I argue, "I want to see it… I _need_ to see it."

* * *

I cough, my throat feeling like it's closing off with every breath I take. The smell is suffocating me, full of charcoal and gas. I squeeze Christian's hand as I look around us, seeing a black sheath covering most of the floor and walls of the foyer, taking over the cleanliness and memories it previously held. There's nothing left of the table that once stood there, in the middle of the floor. It's disintegrated, only a little fragment of the legs remaining.

A couple of bodies move over to us, asking endless questions to try to drag any little detail from us. I see a few cops hovering around, mutterings of suspects and grudges trickling out of their mouths. I don't listen to what they're saying, lost in the rutted damage filling the air and space.

"Mr Grey, is it possible that anyone could have guessed the code to get in here?" One of the voices asks. It's grumpy and oozes the short, rotund cop who spends most of his time stuck in coffee shops, snacking on doughnuts.

"No. I've already told you, the number was changed just before my wife and I moved. Only myself and my head of security knew the code." Christian groans, snapping angrily. "My wife didn't even know it!"

"Mr Grey, we're just trying to establish who is responsible for this." A second voice intervenes, attempting to scold Christian.

"Have you pulled any prints?"

"Our guys have swept the place three times. We found nothing… Not even a partial."

"I want the fucker who did this found. I want the bastard thrown in jail for this. Someone could have been hurt!"

"Mr Grey, please calm down –"

"_Calm down_? How the fuck do you expect me to calm down when this has happened?"

I slip my hand out of Christian's, leaving him and the equally angry detectives to battle it out.

I start to move around, away from the centralised destruction and onto the kitchen, sitting area and the hall that leads down to our old bedroom, where it's cleaner and as it was – not ruined and lost.

I find myself shuffling into the bedroom, pushing through the partly open door.

It's as it was the last time I was here: the bed covered with crisp, slate-blue sheets; the overbearing window looking out to the Seattle skyline, the sun starting to rise. I'm glad the fire didn't spread to here. This was _our_ room.

As I merge into the room properly I hear my feet squelch into the carpets. I'm confused at first, finding that everything has been drench and is dripping with water. I glance all around, slowly realising that over-head sprinklers must have triggered when the alarms went off. I nod as I confirm it, looking up at the ceiling and noticing the little spikes there.

I can still hear Christian shouting, his voice growing louder at them. I decide that I'm keeping out of it. I don't need him turning on me. When he's like this he's easily pissed off and can snap at anyone. I could do without that right now.

"Ana?"

"In here." I call out to him, "I'm in the bedroom."

I wait for him to join me, which he does swiftly. He swoops in and slams to my side once again, his hand finding mine and clenching around it hard.

He brings it up to his lips, slowly kissing each of my knuckles in that way he does when he's trying to comfort me, but right now I think he needs it more than I do.

"We should leave. They've used gas as an accelerant. It's not good for you or the baby." He tells me in a sharp, clipped tone.

"I want to splash my face with water… It's still early and I think I'm still half-asleep." I smile as I pull away again, heading off into the bathroom.

I feel him follow me, like my shadow, and it's something I would usually grimace and roll my eyes at but, for once, I'm glad he did.

My mouth falls open as I step inside.

It's an absolute mess.

Toilet paper everywhere, shampoo and lotions emptied onto the floors and sprayed up what's left of the glass that made up the shower walls. They've been beaten, most of it crumbled into pieces. The floor is flooded with water - the toilet over-flowing and clogged with God knows what.

"What the fuck?" Christian curses, coming in behind me. "Fucking bastards!"

I push in, my feet swimming with the water coming up to my shins.

I numbed as I lifted my eyes, something catching my attention. Christian's kicking things around the place, growing more and more pissed off by the second as he notices something else that they've done.

"Christian…" I mumble quietly, reaching out to him.

My eyes are fixed, my arm seeking him and needing him at my side. I slap him on the chest, I think, a few times before he moved nearer to me.

"What? What's wron…"

He trails off.

He notices it too, his attention now glued on the mirror in front of us like mine.

Part of it has been smashed - pieces scattered all over the counter and some shards even making their way to the floor. The rest of it is covered in bright red lipstick, the evidence of such sitting in the sink that has equally been clogged with water cascading down the front of the counter. The red has been rubbed everywhere. It's been smudged, with just a circle in the middle of the mirror free - where two words have been violently etched there.

Just two words sitting above a series of photographs that have been stuck onto the glass, all of the photographs of me and Christian.

_You're next_.


	80. Chapter 80

**Disclaimer: The majority of the characters that are portrayed in this story are those that pertain to the Fifty Shades trilogy by E L James. These characters remain her sole property respectively. The plots and themes explored in this story are those of the author, infamouschelsea. The author is in no way affiliated with James and/or the publishing corporation which produced the original works. Any recognisable brands, places or persons used in the story are the sole property of their respected owners and are not the property of the author. No copyright infringement is intended.**

**MX - **I'm concerned for both of them! It's a haunting message to receive, especially with the fire and bathroom disaster too! I can't wait to see what happens either, it's going to be interesting. Thank you, just two more weeks and then I'm free for Summer! I did have a wonderful birthday, thank you! :) Much Love x

**Guest 1 - **I'm glad it was unexpected :) I can't wait to find out who did this! Thank you x

**Guest 2** - Yes, I'm a spoilsport! Things are getting interesting, now. Thank you, I'll be glad when they are finished x

**LA** - What's life without a little suspense? ;) I'm lucky that I've been about to find some time to pound out this update! Thank you! I think I might need all the luck I can get! x

**Guest 3** - First, welcome! :) Thank you, and kudos for getting through all the chapters! I'm not sure I could do that, so it's much appreciated! I'm glad you've made some links between other things that have happened! Time will tell if you're right, though :) Thank you for the birthday note! x

**Monica** - Thank you! I'm glad you liked it! :) x

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**Thank you for the great reviews on the last update! It seems the overall consensus is that Elena is involved somehow? Interesting... ;) Time will tell if you've got it right, or if there's another twist in store for our favourite couple! Because, let's face it, anything can happen, right?**

**Thanks again for the support! Really, really does mean a lot!**

**Two more weeks until end of semester and then I'm free to write more and more and more! As always if I can find the time to upload a chapter I will do. I want to know what will happen just as much as you!**

**SIDE-NOTE: I recently set up a Pinterest account! I'll be posting pictures that I've used for inspiration in the story, so feel free to head on over there, follow or do whatever it is that you do with that site - I'm still learning the ropes! :) There are already a few pictures from Ana and Christian's Christmas on there. Just add 'infamouschelsea' onto the end of the web address and you'll find me!**

**Much Love and Happy Readings,**

**Chelsea x**

* * *

_You're next_.

I glance around _those _words.

Christian… Christian and me… Kissing at the altar… Graduation… _You're next_.

We're next?

I take in a slow and heavy breath. I inhale it through my mouth, worried that the fumes with disturb little Blip. He has a super delicate nose and I know that another whiff of the stench flooding the place will upset him, resulting in me hanging from the window and tipping the contents of my stomach from the penthouse suite.

I close my eyes sluggishly, drawing them down without haste. There's a heaviness in my stomach, restricting and torching my insides. It's a horrible feeling. It's a sick, twisted feeling. It's familiar, and that's what really panics me.

Before I could open my eyes, or even release my breath, I found myself being yanked off my feet and hauled from the room. I felt his icy hand claw around mine, snatching me to him in an instant.

My feet stumble and give way under me, struggling to negate the mess and keep up with him as he pounds away. I can feel the anger vibrating through him, the tension of it securing around my hand and squeezing it hard… squeezing it too hard. I have no choice but to follow him.

"Chris –"

"No." He cuts me off, spitting out through his teeth grinding together.

I whine at him and he tugs harder. He pulls me out of the bathroom and through the sodden bedroom, finally emerging into the hallway.

"No –"

Christian curses and turns, spinning on the spot to face me. His eyes are darker than they usually are. He stares down at me, urging forward and backing me into the wall. I twist my head to the side as I feel myself hitting it, but I'm drawn forward again, distracted, as he forms a cage around me.

He sets his hands on the wall, on either side of me. He stoops down a little, bringing his eyes level with mine. I look into his grey's, finding them eclipsing the whites. His pupils are small, almost invisible.

I think about pushing my hands up and onto his chest, to move him back slightly, but I'm stuck with my arms solid at my sides.

"Christian…" I breathe jaggedly. I close my eyes, his breath and warmth vibrating through me.

"No." He drops and his lips slap with mine. He kisses me avidly, stinging and bruising my mouth.

He leaves me breathless as he pulls back, removing his hands from the wall. He brings them to my jaw, his touch a little softer.

I search his face, wanting to say something to him, but he shook his head and lowered himself to rub the tip of his nose against mine.

"Never…" He growled, "I'll never let it happen."

Christian stroked my cheeks with his fingers. He mustered a small, untouchable smile but it was challenged by footsteps and laughter from further up the hallway.

I could feel and see him change. I felt his whole being tighten and grow sterner, harder even. I saw his jaw twitch and strain as he twisted his head to the side, facing the interruption.

"Stop –" I snap at him, knowing exactly where this is heading.

He ignores me and storms off, heading up the hall. He shouts after his prey, cursing at them until they turn their attention to him. I manage to keep up with him this time, continuously calling after him and repeating his name over and over.

I meet his side and grab his hand, trying to link our fingers, but he rejects me and pulls his away angrily.

"Mr Grey –"

A short, hairless cop moves forward. I watch him as he tries his damned best to lengthen himself after realising Christian's towering height, his face showing signs of distress and unease as a result. He opens his mouth to say something but is shot down almost immediately.

"You have one fucking thing to do and still you've fucked it up!" Christian shouts, hissing down at the cop. "You've had all morning to clear this place and check every room… All fucking morning!"

"You need to calm down." Shorty spouts back to Christian, shaking his head. "You need to calm right down, Sir."

"_Calm down_? You're telling me to calm down? Have you seen the fucking state of the bathroom?"

"Mr Grey –"

"How the hell did you screw this up? How? It takes what, five minutes to do a walk through? _Five fucking minutes_?" Christian taunts, "You guys have been here since midnight. Why the hell didn't you search the place? What the fuck have you been doing? Sitting on your fucking ass eating fucking doughnuts all this time?!"

The cop falters and begins stuttering, shifting on the spot. "I will not tell you again. Calm down or I'll –"

"My wife just walked straight into a threat!" He slams him down. He edges forward slightly, the cop mirroring his movements. "My wife just excused herself and came face-to-face with the thing _you_ should have found six fucking hours ago!"

"We didn't give clearance for you, or anyone else, to explore the place," He moves around Christian's body to find me. He offers a spiteful and chastising snarl, "Maybe your wife should've stayed in the car if she can't be trusted to –"

"Don't…" Christian strides forward. He extends his finger and shoves it into Shorty's face. "Don't you fucking dare insult my wife! No one treats my wife that way, do you understand me? No one…"

"S-Sir… If you d-don't back away now I will arrest you."

"Try it." Christian whispers.

A shiver runs through my core as an arctic breeze passes me. I jolt my head to check it, finding a tall, broad figure shielded in black surpass my frame. His hair is the thickest taupe, and his trench coat stoops down near his ankles, covering every inch of him. He moves swiftly and silently, positioning himself between Christian and Shorty.

He extends his hand toward Christian, planning on pushing him back and out of his face, but Christian moved instinctively, moving out of the way of the oncoming palm.

"Mr Grey, if you don't calm down immediately you will be arrested." His voice is gruff and smoky, almost like he has only the one lung or something. "I know this must be –"

"You know nothing." Christian butts in, "I want this place searched top to bottom. I want every corner and floorboard examined, do you hear me? All of it…"

Shoving his fist into his pocket Christian pulls out his keys. He undoes one of them and throws it to the beast standing square to him. It hits him in the chest before he caught it in one of his claws.

"You'll need that… Every last inch of this place will be searched, and you won't stop until you've caught the fuckers who did this."

"Mr –"

"Or is that too much for you to handle?"

"Mr Grey, you are on your final warning. Another word and I will personally remove you from the building."

"_Remove me_? You're going to remove me from my own fucking apartment?!" Christian roars, sniggering at the comment. "Are you fucking serious? Shit, they'll give any fucker a badge these days."

"Right, that's it –" The beast breaks and moves forward, pushing a hand behind his back and pulling out a set of handcuffs. "You've been warned. Mr Grey, I'm arresting you for –"

_Shit_!

I pound forward and push between them. I squeeze in and wiggle my behind into Christian, urging him to move back a little while extending my arms to shield him.

"No… Officer, please… It's okay, we'll –"

"Detective," He corrects me, staring at Christian. "Move out of the way, ma'am."

"We'll leave." I burst. "We'll go. Please, just let us go."

"Like fuck we're leaving!" Christian rants from behind me, his chest shuddering against me. "I don't trust these pricks –"

"Christian!" I spin, turning to face him. I slap my hands onto his chest. "Stop it."

He glares down at me. His eyes are narrow and heated. I search them for something I can work with, and see nothing but frustration.

"Please, Christian…" I beg him. I plead with him to calm down, even if it's just a little because anything is better than nothing.

I hear a loud, intruding cough from behind me. I turn to face it, and start pouting at the cop. I even rub my bump with my hand and that's the straw that broke his back. He caved.

"You have two minutes to vacate the premises or I will arrest both of you."

"Thank you."

"Two minutes." He repeats more firmly.

I nod my head and make a grab for Christian's hand. I wrap my fingers around his fist and try to pull him away, but he's solid. I look back at him and his face is defiant. I stare him out for a moment and eventually huff, and shrug my shoulders at him.

"Well, I'm leaving." I tell him. I turn away and starting moving over to the elevator, moving delicately passed the scorched floor. "The smell's making me nauseous."

He makes a whiny noise, but I continue.

"And… I'm starting to get hungry, now."

In a heartbeat I feel him meet my side, almost banging into me. He unhinges his hand and slips one of mine into it, pressing for the elevator with his other.

He doesn't say anything to me, reacting only when the light flickered and the doors slid open. We moved inside the cart simultaneously, and turned to face the doors. I watched as the cops stared after us, both red-faced and beyond pissed.

As soon as the doors shut I was ready to pounce and criticise Christian for almost getting thrown in jail, but when I twisted to look up at him I saw his hand to his ear and his lips slightly pursed.

"Taylor." He spoke deftly, "Something's come up… Yes… No, I want everything arranged with immediate effect. I want those cameras installed and linked by the end of the day… Yes, email the information to me. I'll choose… I'm dealing with this."

He ends the call and shoves his phone back into his pocket. Turning his head to face me he groans and falls back against the wall, leaning into it.

I didn't need to say anything before he answered me. He knew exactly what I was going to ask.

"I am not letting you out of my sight." He issues calmly, but there's sternness in his voice too. "Not even for a second. I mean it, Ana."

"But –"

"Listen…" Christian beckons me closer to him and pulled me to stand between his legs. His arms snaked around my back. "I know you're not going to like this but you will do as I say. I'm not compromising on anything… Not this time."

I try to interrupt but he shushed me.

"I am not letting you out of my sight until all of this is resolved and we have found who is responsible for this… I will ride to and from work with you, and I'm having wireless cameras installed in your office at work. The feed will be hooked up to my office, so I can check in on you throughout the day."

"You're going to stalk me?"

"We're not arguing on this one… I'm prepared to compromise on a lot of things, Ana, but I will not compromise your safety." One of his hands comes up to my cheek, and he starts caressing it. "Taylor is compiling a list of potential security for you, and I will pick them."

"Hang on a minute! Why the hell do you get to pick them?"

"Ana –"

"Don't Ana me… You said I could choose my own security." I remind him, "You said because they would be following me that I had a say in who they were!"

He groans at me, "Circumstances have changed."

"That's bullshit, and you know it. I should get a say! Or does my opinion not count anymore?"

"Fine!" He yells at me, to shut me up. "How about I choose them and then you can approve it?"

"How about Taylor gives me the list and I get to choose." I fire back. "You promised me."

"You can be there when I choose… and you can approve my choices." He counters.

"I'll give in to having an equal say in who my security is… Give me fifty per cent."

"Twenty." He bites, narrowing his eyes.

"Fifty."

"Forty."

"Fifty." I sound out the syllables slowly, annoying him.

"Forty-five and that's it. You're not getting any more than that."

"I'll settle for forty-five and a kiss." I whisper, leaning into his chest. I hover just shy of his mouth, waiting.

"Deal."

He sighs before lunging forward and sealing his mouth over mine. His tongue darts in fiercely, screwing and twisting it around mine. His hands come up to my face, holding it there while he kisses me… while he _really_ kisses me.

Christian pulled back when the ping fired through the cart and it jumped up a little, coming to stop at basement level. I smile at him.

"You drive a hard bargain." He teases me, tapping the end of my nose with his finger.

I lower my eyes to floor as I attempt to shuffle out from between his legs, and I find them drawn to his crotch. Christian pushes his hands into his pockets to mask the strained bulge growing there.

"Hmm… I like it hard." I smirk, teasing my lip between my teeth.

"Jesus, what is it with you and this elevator?"

"I don't think it's the elevator, baby."

He smirks as we exit the cart, nodding his head in agreement. He walks me over to the SUV parked in one of the many reserved and empty bays in his name.

He opens my door and helps me get in, and this time _offers_ to fix the seatbelt for me. I let him, grabbing both of his hands before he pulled away afterwards.

"I honestly thought he was going to arrest you." I'm serious, but he's blasé over it.

"It's okay. I've got you to bail me out." He smiles. It doesn't reach his eyes.

"Why?" I ask him outright.

"Ana, I'm very protective of you. You should know that by now. After everything we've been through –" He leans forward and brings his lips to mine again, sliding one of his caught hands over my stomach. "I will fight to the death for you… Ana, I've had threats made across me before, and it doesn't bother me, but they've included you in this... I will do whatever it takes to keep you safe."

"I-I know." I nod, and we leave the conversation there.

He shut my door gently and quickly moved around the car, slipping into the driver's seat. The engine bounced to life as soon as he fired the ignition, and a soft voice purred through the speaker at a low, concentrated volume.

Christian drove us out of the basement, out to the open and lit streets. It's more alive and awake than it was other earlier. It was like a ghost town before – barely another soul on the streets or sidewalks. It was quite unnerving actually.

We merge into the mix of other cars and I twist to face him, bringing my feet up to sit on them.

I love watching him drive. There's just something about him that's different when he drives. He always looks clearer and happier when he's driving, like he's more comfortable taking to the wheel - even when he's angry and pissed at something.

"Baby?"

"Yes?" He answers, keeping his eyes on the road. I reach across and stretch my hand over his thigh, resting it there peacefully.

"You gave them a key?" I quiz him.

"You have fantastic observational skills, Mrs Grey." He cocks his head to me and smirks. I scowl back. "Yes, I gave them a key. Why?"

"I was just wondering what it was for."

He drops his voice as he tells me. "It's for the playroom."

"Oh…" I slur. "Doesn't that… bother you? They're going to see everything." I blush a little.

"No." He shakes his head, "There's nothing to see in there."

"Huh?" I think of the cabinets and what's inside them… the cross on the wall...

"There's nothing in there anymore. All of it's gone, except the bed."

"What do you mean it's gone?"

Christian sucks in a sharp breath. "Ana –"

"W-What?"

"The night you left… for Portland… I lost it." He starts, gripping the wheel a little stronger than a second before. "That was the worst night of my life. My whole world collapsed right in front of me and dragged me down with it… I watched you drive away and I had no idea if you were ever coming back. I was scared and hurting, bad… I blamed her."

I sit still, refusing to move my hand from his leg.

"I couldn't stay in the house. Everywhere I turned there was something that screamed your name to me. I just couldn't handle it… It was like being stabbed repeatedly in the chest." The hurt's still there in his voice, "I left. I got my keys and jumped in the car and left... I drove for hours, just going around in circles contemplating meeting you at the hotel. I came so close to heading there, to stop you and tell you how sorry I was… But I passed Escala and I stopped… I went into the apartment and before I knew it I was in the playroom."

His leg twitches underneath my hand.

"I trashed the place." He mutters, "I wrecked everything in there… I smashed things, threw them around and ripped them apart. I destroyed it all because I knew what it stood for… what she meant to me and what I am… What I _was_."

My chest tightens for him. "Christian, you're not that person anymore… You haven't been that person for a long, _long_ time." I assure him, squeezing his thigh.

He looks down to my hand and manages a smile. The left side lifts a little more than the right. He takes his hand from the wheel and scoops mine off his leg, holding it in his palm and rubbing his thumb across my knuckles.

"I know… Ana, it's something I've been working on with Flynn." He confesses to me. "I was scared that I would look at you and see her, and that I would come to hate you and hurt you because of everything that whore ever did to me… or more importantly, what she _didn't_ do... But, Flynn's helped me see things for they really are."

He turns to look at me.

"She has nothing do with us… She's not a part of who we are, or what we have. She's never been a part of that." He nods his head, "Well, except the beginning –"

I offer him my smile.

"Besides, the most we've done is just kinky fuckery, right?" His face screws up a little, genuinely enquiring.

I nod my head, bypassing the very, _very_ early days of our relationship. Well, if you can even call that a proper relationship… Not, while the contract was hovering around us like a bad smell.

"That's what you meant before… About seeing things differently now?"

He nods.

He drives us to a stop, joining a never-ending line of cars waiting at a red light. The SUV merges in with the line perfectly, slotting in with the other maniac and impatient drivers.

Christian tightens his grip of my hand, causing me to jerk my head over to him. I'm met with his smile. He brings my hand up to his mouth, his lips starting to caress my knuckles sweetly.

"Ana?"

"Hm…" I hum, looking at him through stinging, tired eyes.

"I'm ready." He whispers. He pauses for a second, gulping down a breath. "I think I'm ready to that again… to _play_ with you, again."

I flex my fingers and shift my legs, my insides are vaulting around like crazy.

"Only if you're ready too… Baby, don't do this for me. You can't agree to do this just because of me, or if you think I need this. It has to be your choice… If you don't want to, I understand. Fuck, I'd be hesitant too after what I –"

"Shh…" I silence him and his rambling. "I want to… I want to play with you, Christian."


	81. Chapter 81

**Disclaimer: The majority of the characters that are portrayed in this story are those that pertain to the Fifty Shades trilogy by E L James. These characters remain her sole property respectively. The plots and themes explored in this story are those of the author, infamouschelsea. The author is in no way affiliated with James and/or the publishing corporation which produced the original works. Any recognisable brands, places or persons used in the story are the sole property of their respected owners and are not the property of the author. No copyright infringement is intended.**

**Emily** – Thank you! I'm glad you liked it :) Christian has always had a temper but Ana has the miracle touch where he's concerned. I want to know who destroyed Escala too! I think we all have our suspicions, but time will tell ;) Much Love! x

**LA** – Procrastination results in new chapters! In between studying I've been writing little bits, which seems to work – I hope! Thank you, so glad you liked it! Always means so much :) Thanks again! I've got my fingers crossed all will go okay next week! x

**MX** – Yay! That's great to hear. Thank you! I love him too, especially when he's like this. You can't help but love mercurial Fifty! I thought it'd be great to share the pictures with you :) I hope you had a great weekend! Much Love! x

**Guest** – Thank you! :) I hope you enjoy this one x

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**Hey everyone,**

**I hope you're all well and happy! So, as a result of procrastination and obsession I was able to write this chapter. This will be the last one I update until I finish my exams on May 17th because I kinda need to do some hardcore studying! But, after that I am free for FIVE MONTHS… I think we all know what that means ;)**

**Have we missed Fifty's playtime? ;)**

**I hope you like it – my fingers are permanently crossed! As always my appreciation for everyone is unfathomable! I can't thank you all enough for the support, kindness and patience you have shown me! Hugs all around!**

**Much Love and Happy Readings until May 17th! I will be back soon!**

**Chelsea x**

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I came to a colliding stop before I could take another step into our bedroom.

It was like an invisible shield had formed around me, barricading my way through. I thought for a brief second it was doubt creeping up on me, that there was something inside me crying out and urging me not to do this. It tried to convince me that I'm not ready for this, that I _can't_ do this. But, as quickly as it took over it was thrust out, the flurries in my stomach took charge and dominated, pushing the niggle aside and revealing the truth on how I feel.

After a breath I realised it was Christian holding me back. His fingers coiled around my elbow and tightened, capturing me.

Spinning on my heel I turn to face him, my brows knitting together in the middle of my face. Our eyes met for a moment before he tore his away, dropping them to the floor with his fingers releasing me and falling timidly to his side. He hunched his shoulders forward as he dipped his head solemnly. I followed his eyes and looked down to his feet, finding them rooted to the spot in the hall, just before the divide separating us.

His breaths deepened, and as he released them an aching countenance etched itself over his face.

_Christian_…

I glanced all around him and saw the nerves, the shyness, and the fear take over him and threaten ruin the man I know and love. I saw in him a combination of all the things I've rarely seen, things I've _never _seen before we've done this. My heart started to beat louder in my chest, weeping along with him.

"Baby, are you okay?" I worried, taking a step closer to him. I looped my fingers around his wrists, trying to gain the attention of his eyes. "Christian… what's wrong?"

"Are you sure you want this?" He sighed gloomily.

"Yes." I nod my head. "Christian, I wouldn't be here if I wasn't."

"But, this –" Christian lifts his eyes to me, blinking hard to shoo away the water. "We don't have to do this. I don't _need_ this. I like Vanilla –"

"Shh…" I silence him and invade his space, merging his chest with mine. Cupping his jaw I manage to secure his face to me. "Christian, I like Vanilla too, but we're not doing this because we have to… It's because we _want_ to."

"Ana –"

"No." I stop him. I tug him down to my level. "This is just nerves talking. Baby, I like kinky fuckery with you… Damn it, I like being spanked by you! I want to do this!"

In a beat he relaxed, softening all over and looking at me properly, without reluctance or reverence. He heaved and depressed his chest several times, calming his breaths as he settles.

Christian mimicked me and pushed his hands to my jaw, starting to caress his thumbs across my cheeks.

"If there's anything you don't want to do, if it's too much or I'm hurting you, you have to tell me."

"You know my limits." I reassure him, smiling. "I trust you."

"Say it, Ana." He pleads in his sterner, coarser voice. "Tell me you will stop me if it's too much."

"Red and yellow…" I remind him, nodding gently. He nods in return, pacified.

I walk backwards into the room, encouraging him to follow me. He mirrored my smile, kicking the door to a close as he entered. When it clicked, and shut us off from the world, he changed.

Christian's whole being altered. He became cooler, fiercer, taller… He morphed into the man I was introduced to, the man I was stunned and seduced by, and a man I love.

He became a dominant and I found myself reverting into a repressed submission. We moved into something we've fought against for a while but, deep down, was yearning to be released.

We're equals in everything – in our marriage, our love for each other – except for this. In playtime he's in control. In playtime I want him to be in control... I need him to be in control.

I quiver and move into the centre of the room, at the foot of the bed. He joined me quickly, coming to a halt just inches from my front. Its close enough for me to feel the lust radiating him, but far enough to pine for his touch.

I whimper.

Christian shushes me and circles my body, moving towards my side of the bed. I stumble and twist around, watching him as he lowers himself onto the edge, facing away from me.

"Come."

He lifts his hand up and gestures with two of his fingers, curling them wickedly. It makes me writhe, thinking about his fingers doing that inside me.

I shuffle quickly, to stand directly in front of him with my hands loose at my sides. I try to stop them from trembling, but I can't.

He traces my body with his eyes. He starts at my feet and follows every line and curve, fixating on my mouth for a moment but neglecting my wide and anxious blue beads craving him.

"Closer." Christian hisses. It trips off his tongue slowly. It vibrates through my core, my skin imagining that tongue and mouth on me… licking… sucking… dripping…

I step forward, into the widened gap between his thighs. He barely waited for me to still before he pushed his hand between my knees, beginning to trace the seam of my left leg. It crept upwards, lightly fingering the inside of my thigh. He slowed as he came to my apex, skimming across my pulsating sex to the other side. He ignored me and followed the seam down to my other knee.

I rock on my feet, the pressure down there growing stronger and needier. I notice a small smirk on his lips and he pulled his hand away sharply, setting it down on his leg. He tilted his head up, but it wasn't harmonised with a submissive look. His eyes oozed power. His greys flickered proudly with intent, like possessive flames.

"Take them off." His mouth twitches. "Take your jeans off."

I gulp, hard. God, his voice is deep… panty-dropping, leg separating deep… I fumble to catch the waistband of my jeans, thanking the God's of maternity clothes for making jeans without zippers. I don't think I could handle that kind of stress right this second.

I step out of them and kick them away from me. His smirk returned as he eyes met with my panties: a pair of light blue, all-lace Brazilian panties. I had to bend over to see them, my bump restricting the view, and I felt my cheeks reddening as I realised how sheer they were.

"Now, take your shirt and bra off." Christian issues, composing himself. He rises from the bed and moves passed me, leaning into my ear just before he pulled away completely. "I want them off before I return."

His footsteps quieten as he saunters off, and I wait until they disappear before I threw off my cream t-shirt and clumsily unhooked my bra. I tossed them across the room when I was done and felt my breasts drop heavily when I released them. My nipples are taunt and hardened already, throbbing for his touch… for his mouth.

I waited impatiently for him to return and gratefully he was quick coming back. I risked turning my head to look at me as he approached me from behind, and I was drawn to his hands and the lengthy, light blue ribbon he's flinging around. I stare at it, realising it's one of the ties from my satin robes.

It's the same blue as my panties.

I clench everything, unable to breathe silently as he strides to my side. I raised my eyes to his and immediately pulled them away, stunned by his errant and hungry glare.

"I want to tie your hands together." He tells me. I nod. There was something about his tone that urged for my permission. "Turn to face me."

I spun and instinctively gave my wrists to him, extending them from my body, but kept my eyes low the whole time. I watched his hands, devoted to them as he lengthens the tie before bringing it to my skin.

He's swift in manoeuvring the satin around my wrists, frequently pulling it through the gap and spiralling it around one wrist, then the other, until it shortened and he finished it off with a delicate, astute bow. I tested it and tried to pull my hands apart, but I couldn't.

"Too tight?" Christian asks. His hand comes to my chin, gently lifting my face. "I can loosen it if you want."

"It's okay." I breathe jaggedly.

Christian looks straight into me, into my soul, and rubs his lips together, turning them white. He paused and leaned down to me, bringing his lips to mine.

"Red… and… yellow…" He whispers. "Red and yellow…"

"Red and yellow." I repeat hastily. I dart my tongue from my mouth to wet my lips, puckering them and getting them ready for his. I moaned when he pulled away at the last second.

He straightens and his eyes fall back down to my panties. I quiver as he slips a finger under the hem, running from one hip to the other. He growled, pushing his hand further in and down my centre.

"Always ready for me." He mouths, circling my swollen peak with two of his fingers, spreading the slickness around. "I don't think we'll need these." He tugs and rips my panties down my legs.

Christian crouches and orders me to lift out of them. I settle my bound hands on his shoulder, to steady myself, as I pulled each of my knees up, allowing him to scoop my underwear from me. He held them in his hand for a second, examining them, but tossed them to the side with indifference.

On his way up, coming to stand again, he pressed his nose to my leg and followed the length of it. He teased up and sniffed until he met with that needy part of me. I sighed, throwing my head back slightly, wanting… _needing_ his tongue there. I need him… I need him to divide and conquer me over and over and over…

"Get on the bed." Christian barks, standing up. He grunts and grabs me, one hand on my roped wrists and his other around my upper arm. "On your knees."

I plunge my weight into him as I crawl onto the bed, instantly trundling into the middle of the covers. He commanded me to bend and rest on my forearms, effectively surrendered. He shoved a pillow under me before I lowered myself down, placing it between my elbows and chest. I silently thanked him, the pressure on my arms lessening along with the weight of my stomach pulling on my spine.

I settle down, twisting my head to the side, and push my behind into the air shamelessly.

"Wider." He orders, tapping the back of my thighs. I shift my knees further apart. "Keep going… further… Stop. That's enough –"

The bed dips behind me, sharply followed by a concrete, stinging slap on my right buttock. I yell out, my whole body jolted forward by the force of it.

He silences me, soothing the sharpness with the palm of his hand. He rubbed it and gripped my butt until the surprise dissipated. He squeezed and I moaned.

"How does that feel, baby?" Christian teases, running his nails down the curve of my behind. "Is it painful?"

I shake my head, groaning. "No… No… Good. It feels good…"

He removes his hand and strikes me again, hitting my left cheek. I bite down on my lip to stop the scream from escaping. It fires through my skin, trickling down the back of my legs.

"It feels good, huh?" He questioned. "I don't think I heard that right. Good… _What?_"

"Erm…" I hesitate, panting. I'm provoked with another biting slap.

"Erm, is not an answer." Christian scolded, striking me with his hand once more. It throbs. My skin feels heated and raw under his touch. "I'm waiting."

He rubs and smooths out the discomfort. He pulls his hand away again and I clench every muscle inside me, anticipating the next hit. My sex is aching and agonisingly needy as I squeeze.

"Sir…" I push out meekly. "Sir… It feels good… _Sir_…"

"That's it." He taunts. "Now, you've been naughty recently, haven't you?"

"W-What?"

"What did you do yesterday?" His voice stiffens. Both of his hands grip my butt, pulling me apart. "Huh, baby? What did you do yesterday?"

I hesitate, scanning my thoughts to recall what I supposedly did yesterday. He's impatient and spanks me severely on my thighs, one on either side until I answered him.

"Eyes!" I cry out. "My eyes… Rolled… I rolled my eyes, Sir –"

"Shh…"

The sensations tease their way through my core, swirling in my pelvis and through my stomach… through everything nerve inside me.

Christian feathers his fingers down my centre, pushing my folds apart and massaging the slickness up and down my wanton pulse. He manipulates that sensitive point with the tip of his finger, circling and rolling it around. His palm cups me from behind while his fingers explore, his thumb starting to probe and tease into me. I clench down around him, holding him there, as I groan sighs of burning want.

"That's right, baby… What do you want me to do? Tell me what you want."

"You…" I pant. "All of you…"

"You've got me… But first, you need to be punished… Don't you?"

"Ohh…" I lick my lips.

"You rolled your eyes at me, baby. You need to be punished for that, don't you?"

I can almost hear his tongue streak across his teeth as he dips his thumb in further, his fingers picking up the pace and ribbing and spiralling my peak. I feel myself moistening. I tighten and push my butt into him, urging him for more.

"You need to be spanked." Christian explained coolly.

I shiver, pushing my head into the pillow under me, attempting to suppress my cries as the blows rivet through me.

"Yes… Yes, Sir…" I murmur, grinding my teeth together.

"How many do you deserve? You should know better by now, shouldn't you baby?"

He tugs his thumb out and I feel the bed bounce back into place as he pushes away. I miss him, I miss him there, and he knows it. He offers himself to me again by smacking his hand against my sex. It's gentler than the others, a tap in comparison, but it shoots fiery spasms into me.

"Count them." He huffs. He strikes in the same place again. "Count… Them…"

"One –" I gasp. I retract my fingers into a fist, cursing my knuckles to a beating of translucency. Christian spanks me again and again. "Two… Three… F-Four –"

"That's right… You like it don't you, baby?" He grunts, massaging my skin in-between stings.

"Yes… Yes… Fuck, yes…"

I bolt forward each time I feel him. I dig my nails into my palms as I accept the biting and whacks. I yell into my pillow as it grows more frequent, mellowing into a begging moan as it spreads up and down my body.

"Eight…"

My throat becomes tighter, drier… deprived.

"Nine…"

Christian alternates areas… the inside of my thighs, hard… tickling his fingertips, lightly… strong and sharp just under the curve of my butt… _Fuck_…

The sounds echo off the walls, matching the next blow.

"Ten!"

I scream, my left buttock receiving his palm. He scratches his fingers against me as he grips it, kneading with the base of his hand.

The spasms… Trembling… Smack after smack… Almost there… Pounding … There… Peaking…

"Thirteen –" I mumble, biting my lip. A small voice in my throat seeps out. "C-Christian…"

"Yes, baby?"

I suck in my next breath. He rubs his fingers along the length of my fold, dividing me.

_Oh God_… _Please_…

"C-Christian… _Y-Yellow_…"

He stills. He flexes his fingers and softens his touch.

"Okay… Just one more, okay?" He tells me.

I nod my head and stiffen, waiting for it. It comes easier than before. He swats me with his palm squarely on my butt and his fingers curved upward, toward my opening.

"God…"

I sink my chest into the bed.

I hear him tear his zipper apart, followed by the crumpling of his jeans as he hauls them down his thighs a little.

The mattress dips once more and I feel him press against me, his thighs matching and moulding to mine. He probes his rock-hard erection along my crease. I rub into him, ribbing the length of him from base to tip.

He growls and hisses as he takes in a breath. His palms course up and down my spine, his touch vividly salacious.

"Fuck, Ana –"

"Please… Christian, please…" I plead with him, feeling him shudder as I pump him.

I feel it trickle down my leg. It's hot. I try to prise my hands apart, wanting to stretch between my legs and guide him into me, but I can't. The satin cuts into me, holding my wrists in place.

"Christian!" I snap at him. "Too much… Now… Please… Now!"

His fist knocks into my thigh, chaffing my skin as he grips himself. He fists himself for a few moment longer before he positioned the tip at my opening, slowly weaving the width into me. He pauses, hissing, feeling my walls stretch to accommodate him.

"Fuck… God, Ana…" He rolls his hips, working himself in timidly before slamming all the way in… Giving me his all. "I fucking love you!"

I met his thrusts, trying to accept more of him. His fingers dig into my hips as he starts to move, pounding and meeting flesh with flesh.

I throw my head back.

"Christian!"

* * *

"Ow…"

I grip the rim of the tub, the first lashing of water sore on my reddened skin. I puff out my breaths in short bursts, bracing myself for the onslaught.

I hover for a second before slamming down quickly, fighting through the stinging searing through my behind and thighs.

"Easy…" Christian beckons, taking me by my sides and easing me down to sit between his legs.

I screw my face up until I feel the porcelain bottom of the tub. I pucker my mouth as I adjust, waiting for the heated numbness to spread over me before I soothed back into the comfort of my husband's chest.

"Does it hurt?" He asks, nuzzling and kissing that spot just behind my ear. I shake my head.

"No… It's just… been a while." I mumble, extending my legs and splitting them to rest on his. The water slaps against me, down there. I tense up.

"I love you, Ana." Christian kisses me. "Thank you."

I open my eyes and roll my head against his chest. I look up into his soft, flushed face.

His eyes are wide and exhausted. His cheeks are blotchy with the seeds of perspiration from hours of excursion blended with the water dripping from his freshly wetted hair. His copper strands have been temporarily replaced with a darkened Chestnut from his quick wash before I joined him in the bath.

I push my hand up, twisting it around the back of his head to tug him down to me. I bring him forward, merging his lips to mine.

"I should be thanking you." I whisper. "That was… _incredible_… I've missed that."

"I missed it, too." He smiles, wrapping his arms around my front.

Christian nuzzles the tip of his nose against mine, tilting his head up to kiss my forehead tenderly.

I relax into his chest, letting him massage and lather my skin with the Jasmine water. I rock my head back and close my eyes. I relish and soak up the flutters still alive and kicking in my abdomen, even though little Blip is sleeping obliviously in his warm cradle.


	82. Chapter 82

**This post has been removed and replaced with the next chapter - Chapter 83.**

**Please, click 'next' to find the next chapter in the story.**

**Thank you.**

**Chelsea x**


	83. Chapter 83

**Disclaimer: The majority of the characters that are portrayed in this story are those that pertain to the Fifty Shades trilogy by E L James. These characters remain her sole property respectively. The plots and themes explored in this story are those of the author, infamouschelsea. The author is in no way affiliated with James and/or the publishing corporation which produced the original works. Any recognisable brands, places or persons used in the story are the sole property of their respected owners and are not the property of the author. No copyright infringement is intended.**

**Thank you for the support. It means a lot and has helped incredibly through all of this. I'm sorry if I haven't replied personally to you, but know I have read every message and I appreciate it so much. **

**To LA, MX, Ellie, Monica, JSB, DB: Thank you. Usually I would respond individually, and I will in future posts, but for this one I kinda need it to be short and sweet and get straight into the chapter. Your support and kindness is truly appreciated.**

**Much Love, Thanks and Hopefully Happy Readings,**

**Chelsea x**

* * *

I groan as I hear that familiar ping fire through my office. My stomach jerks as it echoes out of my computer, like another kick in the ribs. Sharp, blunt and reoccurring. I slam my eyes shut, squinting harder, as I shake my head against my arms while hunched over my desk, comatose.

"Please… no more…" I mumble. "I can't take anymore… just leave me alone…" I whine, dreading yet another pestering from the Finance, Legal or HR bullies.

Since I arrived at 8:45am my inbox and office door have been busier than Sea-Tac on a Saturday. It's been message after message, person after person, arriving with something else that needs my approval or signature. I've barely had a second to myself. I took a bathroom break earlier, and came back to find two new manuscripts sitting on my desk, a contract waiting for my paw-print, and fifteen emails unanswered and flagged with importance – 'urgent' in the subject line.

I tried to turn off the sound, to stop the endless high-pitched squeak, but my ignorance provoked calls clogging up my BlackBerry and my desk phone. There's just no way of avoiding it. There's always someone waiting in the wings with something else to throw at me.

I'm so in over my head today… and sick.

When I finally crawled into bed late last night, I knew I was off-kilter but I put it down to tiredness. Lately I've been a night Owl, going to sleep in the early hours of the morning. My head was fuzzy and my throat was a little scratchy, nothing sinister. But, when I woke this morning it was like someone had taken a baseball bat to my forehead, a munchkin had spent the night squatting on the bridge of my nose, and I'd been force-fed a ton of crushed-up glass.

Christian woke me up just before he left for his breakfast meeting. He was quiet and gentle with me, scooping my hair from my shoulder and exposing my face to the light filled room, but it was still like a pneumatic drill going off in my ears. I shooed him away, pushing my head into my pillow, and grumbled at him for bothering me. I felt him laugh when he dipped to kiss the back of my head, just before darted out of the room and presumably into the back of the waiting SUV on the drive.

I clambered out of bed just before 7:30am, skipping out on my routine shower and breakfast, and instead opting for a quick wash and grabbing something to eat when I was huddled in my office and was sitting knee-deep in used tissues.

It pings again and I sniff hard, attempting to alleviate the pressure in my sinus, before mustering the energy to lift myself from the desk, to face the dreaded email monster for the hundredth time today. I feel like tearing up every time a new one appears or, better yet, scream insanely at the evil blue lines.

As I rock backwards my door flies open again, this time Hannah strolling innocently into my office with a fresh box of tissues tucked under her arm, and a steaming cup of something in her hand. She flashes her wide, sympathetic smile to me, approaching with hesitance and appearing to hold her breath.

"I got tea for your throat and Kleenex for your nose. They're the menthol ones."

"You…" I breathe, heavily. I push my hands out to her, beckoning her closer so I can grab my saving graces. "You're an angel."

She shrugs it off. "Ana, are you sure you should be here? I mean, we can cope without you."

"No, I'm fine." I protest, over-compensating the lack of consonants in my voice with elongated vowels. "It's a cold… I'll be okay."

"Well, at least pass some stuff onto the rest of us." Hannah settles my cup on the desk and hands me the Kleenex, grabbing a few files on her way out again.

I smile weakly at her and her kindness, unable to manage anything more than a tired, wheezy sort of noise. She leaves swiftly, closing my door behind her and rushing out into the cleaner, safer air. I half imagine she'll head straight to the bathrooms, ready to bathe in sanitizer and get rid of my snotty, gooey illness.

I take a few sips of my tea before turning my gaze to the blinking tab at the bottom of my monitor. I pause, bracing myself for what this latest assault, but I'm relieved to find a certain someone waiting for me.

* * *

**From: Christian Grey**

**Subject: What's wrong?**

**Date: 19th January 2012 11:12:09AM**

**To: Anastasia Grey**

Finally got back into my office, switched on my computer, and I find you sprawled all over your desk?

What's wrong?

C x

Christian Grey

Concerned CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.

* * *

I release my breath, roughly. _What happened to the 'no stalking' rule?_ I haven't got the energy to roll my eyes at him, so I resolve to seek out the beady eye watching me.

Christian had a wireless webcam installed in my office, so he can 'keep an eye' on me from his building across town. It took me a while to work out exactly where it had been placed. I expected something bulky and obvious, when in all actuality it was a small, button sized lens slotted into the mix of files and folders on the shelves opposite my desk. As far as I'm aware it's trained solely on the place where I sit daily.

* * *

**From: Anastasia Grey**

**Subject: I thought you weren't going to stalk me?**

**Date: 19th January 2012 11:15:13AM**

**To: Christian Grey**

We had a deal, Grey. No stalking!

I'm getting a cold or something. Don't worry. It's not life-threatening.

A x

Anastasia Grey

Editor with a slight sinus problem, Grey Publishing Ltd.

* * *

**From: Christian Grey**

**Subject: I'm not stalking, just checking in.**

**Date: 19th January 2012 11:16:14AM**

**To: Anastasia Grey**

"Don't worry." – I will ALWAYS worry about you. Get used to it.

Did you feel sick before you went to work? I hope you didn't go in knowing that you weren't feeling okay.

C x

Christian Grey

CEO and Permanent Worrier, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.

* * *

I flop backwards in my chair and cross my arms over my stomach, resting them on top of my bump. I arch my eyebrow as I stare straight into the lens opposite. For added effect I cock my head to the side, in true Christian Grey defiance.

Another ping hits my inbox, immediately.

* * *

**From: Christian Grey**

**Subject: Don't ignore me.**

**Date: 19th January 2012 11:17:59AM**

**To: Anastasia Grey**

I don't like being ignored.

From your lack of answer I gather that you did know you were feeling sick, but decided to head to work anyway. Yes?

You should be at home. Why hasn't anyone told you to leave?

C x

Christian Grey

CEO ready to spank some sense into his wife, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.

* * *

**From: Anastasia Grey**

**Subject: My Behind…**

**Date: 19th January 2012 11:19:04AM**

**To: Christian Grey**

… is still recovering from last week. When I said we had a lot of lost time to make up on, I didn't expect us to do it all in six days!

But, I do love a good spanking. _Sir_. ;)

Nobody has told me to leave because: 1) I'm the boss. 2) I'm the boss. 3) I don't need someone to call my Mommy to ask if I can leave school early.

It's just a cold, Christian. I'm not dying.

A x

Anastasia Grey

Editor with a cold not the plague, Grey Publishing Ltd.

* * *

I hit send and lift a tissue to my nose. I breathe in the barely there scent, praying it'll help clear away the crap and help me breathe properly again.

In seconds the room is flooded with 'Your Love is King'. I scowl at him, picking up my BlackBerry to accept his call.

"_What?_" I pounce first, chastising him. "Why are you bugging me? Haven't you got something better you could be doing?"

"Seeing as you're sick I'm going to bypass the bad attitude problem." Christian drones. I can feel him glaring at me from across town. "But, yes, I do have something better I could be doing. I could be doing you, on my desk."

"So, I'm a booty call now?" I quip, blowing my nose loudly.

"If only it was that easy, baby." He laughs. "Ana, go home. _Please?_"

"No."

"For me?" He asks, sweetly. I huff back at him. "Please, Ana…"

"But… I can't just get up and leave." I mumble, flumping heavily in my chair. "It's not fair on everyone else..."

"Bullshit," He disagrees. "If Kate or Hannah came in, and were sneezing and coughing everywhere, would you tell them to go home?"

"FYI, I'm not sneezing everywhere. I have a blocked nose, actually."

"You're deflecting because you know I'm right."

"Fine!" I exclaim, "Fine, I'll leave and go home and spend the day wallowing in bed."

"It's the best thing for you." He tells me. "If you're sick then Blip's suffering, too. I want you both to be healthy."

I growl at him. He does this every time. He always uses Blip to seal the deal.

"I heard that." Christian taunts. I stick my swollen tongue out at him. "Saw that, too… So, how're the new recruits this morning?"

I drag my eyes away from the webcam and across the room, over to the rigid Blonde sat in the corner.

Taylor was quick in gathering a list of suitable people to make up my new security detail, and Christian was even quicker in arranging interviews. I was grateful that he kept me in the loop, allowing me to sit in and have an equal say in who was going to be following me around for however long he wants them to. I tried for the millionth time to get Prescott back, and Christian almost caved, but the plan went awry when Taylor informed us that she's now employed with some A-Lister socialite in Los Angeles. Christian smirked, of course, and I ignored him for the next hour or so.

After many debates, bargaining and sucking up, we came to a workable arrangement. Taylor, Reynolds and newbie, ex-Marine, Ramirez, were assigned to shadow Christian from now on, while Sawyer, Ryan, ex-SAS British guy Wilson, and former C.I.A Bailey make up my A-Team.

I haven't met Ramirez yet. All I know is that his name is Xavier and that he's a 'beast' – according to a conversation I overheard between Sawyer and Ryan.

Elijah Wilson was one of Christian's choices, approving him after a mere four minute interview. He's tall, like the rest of them, with a mop of mahogany hair and shockingly onyx eyes. I was caught staring at him for a few moments, trying to work out if they were actually that dark or if it's just his pupils or something, but I was offered a swift smile which left me embarrassed for ogling him from across the desk. Wilson epitomised personal security, wearing that military stance already encompassing Taylor and the other minions, but Bailey is the wild-card.

Faith Bailey is a petite, 5ft 6" blonde with deep Amethyst eyes and a long mane of permed hair. When she first walked in to meet with us in Christian's office I figured she was one of his many, many clones, so I blanked her. I expected her to hand something over to him and leave quickly, but when she introduced herself to Taylor and Christian I was stunned. I knew then that I wanted to give her the job. I loved that she looked… _normal-ish_. She came with a series of glowing references, outstanding GPA, and a clean bill of health. At the end of the inquisition Christian and Taylor turned their eyes on me, and I broke out into a beaming grin. Bailey was hired there and then, but on one stipulation: no suits, simply casual clothes here. Christian had no say on the matter, not after a very long discussion over my added requirement. I told him outright that if I was going to be 'good' about having a new security detail then the woman had to wear casual clothes and appear incognito. I told him I'd feel much better if she didn't look like a carbon copy of the others, that maybe I'd learn to forget that she's security. He pulled a face and scowled at me, but after the newly dubbed 'Ana Treatment' he didn't care.

I glance over to her, finding her sitting cross-legged with her attention solely given to her iPad. It took a little more convincing to get her to agree to dress casually, ever the professional and wanting to rock the shoulder pads and pressed shirts. Today she's opted for dark grey slacks, a plain black blouse and a mustard coloured wrap around. Her scarf and purse are hanging off the back of her chair, and her tight curls are pulled into a high bun. If anyone walked in now, they'd probably assume she was my assistant, not someone who is prepared to kick the ass of anyone who comes within a hundred feet of me.

"Fine –" I mutter down the receiver. "They're doing their jobs."

"And, you're behaving yourself?"

"Don't I always?" I splutter, coughing through my comment.

Christian hums back at me, displeased, and pauses for a moment. I hear someone enter his office, an assembly of voices and footsteps. He asks why they're there.

"Baby, I've got to go." He tells me, hurriedly. "Some detectives have arrived to discuss the fire at Escala."

"Oh… Have they got a lead?"

"I don't know. I'll see you later, at home." He stresses the last bit.

"Yes! I'm going… I'm going!" I sass. He ends the call abruptly.

Dropping my phone back onto my desk I decide to finish my tea, answer a few more emails and then call it a day. As much as I would prefer to stay in the office, I know that the best thing I can do right now is go home and rest.

I interrupt Bailey and tell her that I'll be leaving early, and she promptly pulls out her phone and makes a call downstairs, to Ryan and Wilson waiting in the lobby. Sawyer has been on guard outside my office door since I arrived.

I lift off my chair and make to grab my purse from the floor, ready to fill it with some papers and crap from my desk, when the phone rang.

"Hello?" I answer, slightly out of breath.

"Hi Ana, it's Claire. I've got some police officers down here at the desk. They want to know if you're free for a chat."

"Erm…" I hesitate, looking over to Bailey. Her brow furrows as she watches me, silently asking what's going on.

"I've already checked their badges and your guys on the door have given them the go ahead." Claire settles me.

"Okay. I'll send someone down to check again and come up with them." I tell her, "Better to be safe, than sorry."

I put down the phone and call Sawyer into my office, asking him to go downstairs and approve the 'officers' before they come in to see me. I know that Christian will bitch at me if I'm not careful about who is coming into my room.

"Mrs Grey?"

"Yes?" I glance over to Bailey.

"You know I will be staying in the room with you, right? It's one of Mr Grey's orders." She states, politely, in her Californian voice.

"I know. I'm well aware of _Mr Grey's orders_."

_I've had them rammed down my throat and permanently imprinted on my brain!_

I sit back down and wait for Sawyer to come charging in, which he does relatively fast, with two, short cops waddling in behind him. As soon as they enter they show me their badges, and I tell them that Bailey will be remaining in the room – after one of them gave her a disapproving stare.

"Yes, officers?" I jump in first, moving things along with thoughts of being in my bed before noon.

"Detectives." The rounder one of the two corrects me, gesturing to his colleague. "This is Detective Carter. I'm Detective Moore."

I nod. "Please, take a seat." I offer them the chairs opposite me, which they stomp into almost instantly. I look down at my desk, "Excuse the mess. I'm feeling unwell this morning."

"We're not here to inspect the cleanliness of your office, Mrs Grey. We have a couple of things we'd like to discuss with you." The already annoying one orders me, his tone on the arrogant side.

I glance over to Bailey. She's mentally throwing daggers into the back of Detective Carter's head.

"Do I need an attorney?" I question, wondering if I'll need to make a quick call to Carrick to come here. I don't know any other attorney's, except the guys in Legal but I don't know if they're suitable for this. It's something about his voice that wreaks trouble.

"No, this completely informal, we'll call you into the station if we need it on record." He answers me, extremely blunt. He's making me nervous.

"I take it this is in relation to the fire… Some detectives are visiting my husband, too." I assume, piecing things together.

_These can't be the same ones, right? I mean, they're with him now… Why would they send two different sets to each of us, at the same time?_

Both of their faces are etched with confusion.

"The fire at our Escala apartment… It happened a few weeks ago." I clarify, but again their faces distort and they exchange a weird glance between them.

"No, Mrs Grey, we're actually here to ask you about a former employee of yours. We were just wondering if we could ask you a couple of questions."

"Oh, okay…" I mumble, "Sure. If it'll help –"

"Anything you tell us will help us gather a background." He interrupts, "Can you confirm that a Ms Danielle Wilkes used to work here?"

I jolt my head back, my mouth falling open a little. "Yes… D-Danielle worked here for a few months last year…"

"How long… _roughly_?" The other, balder detective butts in. He pulls out a notepad from his pocket and starts making frantic notes.

"Erm… She started in… September?" I stutter, growing more flustered by the second. I can almost feel my temperature rising and cheeks becoming more and more crimson. "She… erm… stopped working here in December, I think. Maybe, November… I'm not sure. I can get HR to check -"

"We'd appreciate that… Now, what sort of worker was Danielle? Was she a team player? A recluse?" He spouts out, digging deeper.

"Yes… She was a good… She worked hard when she was here –"

"But, she was fired, right?" He questions, cocking his head to me. He reclines back in his seat and I feel my stomach flip. "You fired her… why?"

"It didn't work out." I blurt. "She was still in her probation period and our personalities clashed. It's as simple as that."

"Oh-kay…" The note-taker murmurs. He doesn't lift his head up as he talks to me. "Were you ever concerned about Danielle's state of mind while she was working here?"

"What do you mean?" I scratch my head, fidgeting in my chair.

"Did she ever display signs of…" He pauses and turns to his accomplice. "Depression? Did she seem unhappy to you?"

"No." I shake my head. "I mean, I didn't really know her that well, but she was… okay, I guess."

They hum back at me. I look over to Bailey and she shrugs her shoulders, equally as confused.

"When Danielle stopped working here, did you see her at all after?" Detective Cocky-Carter asks.

I shake my head again. "No. I haven't seen Danielle since she was fired. She came to collect her belongings but I wasn't in the building at the time -"

"Do you know if anyone might have seen her that day?"

"Y-You'd have to ask around." I advise him. "I'm sorry, detectives, but why are you asking me questions about Danielle? Is she in some sort of trouble, or something?"

My mind starts wandering, recalling the personal background on Danielle that I had Welch produce for me. I remember her telling me that she'd been in trouble before, drugs related… Maybe she's been caught pill-pushing?

"We received a call from Danielle's mother on December 10th. She hadn't seen or heard from Danielle in a few weeks prior to that date, and she was getting concerned. She said this was unusual behaviour for Danielle… We're led to believe the two of them were close." The balder one tells me, finally lifting his eyes from the pad in his hands.

"Nobody's seen her?" I ask, shyly. _In over a month?_ I feel something drop in my stomach, like a heavy weight plummeting to my feet. "Well, if there's anything I can do to help you find her… I'll get onto HR and send out a message to everyone asking if they saw her when she came back –"

"Mrs Grey –" I'm interrupted again but I ignore it.

"Her poor mother…" I mouth. "I can't imagine what she's going through."

"Ms Wilkes is extremely distressed –"

"I'd be frantic!" I exclaim, bringing both hands to cover my little Blip. I feel nauseous just thinking about him going missing. "Detectives, please, if there is anything that I can do to help you find Danielle –"

"Mrs Grey." Detective Carter silences me, pushing forward in his seat. He lifts his hand to me, keeping me hushed. "Mrs Grey, we've already located Danielle."

"Oh, thank God! Is she okay?!" I breathe a momentary sigh of relief, sinking backwards in my chair.

He wets his lips before speaking again, composing his thoughts.

"We obtained a warrant to search her apartment on Monday. We found Danielle's body hanging from the ceiling."

"W-What?" I stumble. My mouth falls open, wider and drier, too. "Her… b-body?"

I gulp.

He nods, solemnly.

"She's dead?"

He nods again, dropping his head to the floor before glancing over to his colleague.


	84. Chapter 84

**Disclaimer: The majority of the characters that are portrayed in this story are those that pertain to the Fifty Shades trilogy by E L James. These characters remain her sole property respectively. The plots and themes explored in this story are those of the author, infamouschelsea. The author is in no way affiliated with James and/or the publishing corporation which produced the original works. Any recognisable brands, places or persons used in the story are the sole property of their respected owners and are not the property of the author. No copyright infringement is intended.**

**LA -** Thank you. I'm glad you liked the chapter. And, thank you for so publicly defending me the way you did. It really means a lot. Things have improved, personally and health-wise, thank you. Yes, it is possible to get rid of the 'guest' facility completely, but for now I'm just going to moderate and delete any abuse remarks. If it becomes worse then I might consider disabling the 'guest' option, but I understand that there are times when people can't log in. I would hate to see if abolished for the sake of a few bullies. Thank you so much. As always I am forever grateful for your support. x

**MX -** Thank you. Glad you enjoyed it. I have had the opportunity of catching up on a lot of sleep and reading since finishing my exams, thank you. I'm looking forward to hearing from you soon. Thank you. x

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* * *

**Again, thank you for the support and kindness. It will always mean a lot. **

**I hope you enjoy this chapter.**

**Much Love and Happy Readings.**

**Chelsea x**

* * *

I blink heavily through cloudy and fractious eyes. My shoulders drop forward. I sink into my chair, my dazed jaw falling slightly open.

I try to roll my lips together, to form something, but I'm left babbling a strange, breathy noise while shaking my head.

"Mrs Grey, I'm sorry for being the one to –"

I push my hands into the air and stop him. Detective Carter angles his head toward me, keeping his eyes closed for a moment. He finds my perplexed blues immediately, shooting over a vaguely considerate but insincere look. His mouth twitches but I jump in first.

"W-What? She's dead? Danielle is dead?" I sound it out slowly. It doesn't sound like me as it comes out. There's no conviction in the words tripping off my futile tongue.

"Mrs –"

"Danielle's dead?" I ask again. "Danielle? As in Danielle Wilkes?" I almost break into a laugh. I must have heard him wrong. He must be wrong. "Danielle Wilkes, who used to work here… at Grey Publishing? Red hair, tall…"

My hand makes its way above my head, waving frantically to demonstrate the meaning of tall. My eyes are wide and bewildered.

Detective Carter sighs and drops his gaze to his jacket, reaching inside to grab something. I catch Bailey in the corner of my eye. She's taking a step closer to him, cautiously. I block her out and keep my sight on Carter, watching as he roots inside to a concealed pocket and removes a small note-pad like his partner's. He opens it out on my desk, skimming through to the back and pulling out two photographs.

He unfolds the first.

"This is Danielle –" He sets his finger on it and pushes it across my desk, releasing it in front of me. "Yes?"

I lean forward and look at the picture. It's Danielle. She's smiling. It reaches her hazel-green eyes and warms the pit of my stomach. Her red, curly hair is pulled up and out of her face. It's an outside shot, the backdrop the most azure blue with the sun firing through her hair and highlighting the scarlet tones.

I feel a kick in my stomach. I run my fingers over the widest point and say a prayer.

I nod, tearing my eyes away from her happiness and bliss.

He pushes over the other picture, placing it next to the living Danielle. I tear my eyes away instantly, repulsed by it.

"I'm sorry, ma'am." Carter apologises, pulling the photographs away from me. I catch another glimpse of it before he took them back, regretting it almost immediately.

Red hair clumped together, matted and dirty. Alabaster skin. The coldest white and veiny. The flash of the camera shows up the blue and purple lines under her translucent skin as she lies there, empty. Bony, bare shoulders jutting out, sorely. Once plump and reddened lips, now cracked and parted breathlessly. Eyes closed and darkened. Her skin's blotched with purple, indigo and black. A series of painful bruises and cuts take over her face, neck and shoulders. I try to ignore the thick, blooded line digging into her neck.

In my torturous mind I see her hanging. I see her lifeless, agony-filled body swaying from side to side. I slam my eyes shut, but it's still there.

I push my fingers to mouth, protecting it from the fire that's rising from my stomach and threatening to spill out venomously. It burns and spreads like an acid wildfire, killing everything in its path.

I make a whimpering sound. My ears pulsate as I hear the chairs opposite me scrape across my carpeted floor, followed by a virile mutter. I look up at them when they addressed me.

"I am sorry for this, Mrs Grey." The other detective takes a step forward and I flinch. He stops. "We can see how upsetting this is for you. We'll leave our numbers on the desk downstairs. We'd like to ask you more questions at some point… when you're ready, of course. Anything you tell us will help with our investigation."

"Investigation?" I repeat, meekly.

"There are… things, that aren't adding up." He begins. "We've searched Danielle's apartment three times since she mother registered her as missing. We found nothing each time."

"What do you mean?" I ask. "She came back? She wasn't there all this time?"

_The thought of her there all this time_…

He shakes his head in confirmation. "We obtained another warrant after we got a possible sighting in Lynnwood. We went in looking for something that could provide a link… address books, numbers for friends..."

"But, you found _her_." I answer, quietly.

There's a pause between us, but I break it first. I didn't even think before it came out. It just came into my mind and suddenly it was there, on my tongue. It escaped my grip before I could tame it.

"Do you think Danielle killed herself?"

They exchange a surprised glance between themselves and Detective Moore drops his head, allowing Carter to take over.

"The cause of death has been established as asphyxiation –"

"That's not what I asked." I interrupt him. I suddenly feel much heavier and more tired than before.

"There's evidence of foul play." He tells me, bluntly.

That twinge hits me again, right under my ribs.

"Ignoring how we found her, there are no signs that lead us to believe this was suicide… There was no suicide note on scene. Toxicology found Rohypnol in her blood stream and there were injuries on her body untypical of self-injury."

I squirm, chewing down on the inside of my mouth.

"There were bruises all over her body, ligature marks on her wrists and ankles. We also found evidence of sexual assault –"

I shake my head.

I feel sick. I think I'm going to throw up.

"I think you should leave now."

Bailey speaks up, sternly and abrupt. One of the detective's grunts in response as the door's opened behind them. They stomp out of the room and leave me sicker than I was five minutes ago.

"Mrs Grey?" Bailey hums. I open my eyes, cautiously. She moves nearer to me. "Are you okay, ma'am?"

_Am I okay?_

I shake my head.

"I'm sorry for your loss, ma'am." She offers, politely.

_My loss?_ Is it my loss? What was Danielle to me? An employee? A seat warmer, covering my ass while I was lounging around at home after being beaten to a pulp by her ex-boyfriend? A pawn in the great Elena versus Ana rivalry that's tittering on the edge of World War III?

Maybe she did end it all. Maybe she had enough of it… of being used.

Hyde used her. He stole from her and screwed her over in every way possible. He threatened her into giving his number to someone else. To someone who tried to hack our system for information and money.

Elena used her. She convinced her that she was still bosom buddies with Christian and that she was responsible for getting her the job here. She made out that she was her friend but, in the end, she was just being used to get back at me.

And, what did I do? I screwed her over by firing her without hesitation. I fired her the minute I knew that she was involved with Elena. I didn't give her a chance.

Maybe she couldn't handle it anymore?

"Mrs Grey, Ryan and Wilson are bringing the car out front." Bailey interrupts my thoughts.

I don't say anything. I simply pick up my purse and lift myself out of the chair, crossing the floor and shuffling out of my office. Sawyer jumps to attention when he sees me, quickly merging to my side like a magnet. He remains at my side, faultlessly, until we reach the elevators.

I wait for the cart to join us on the top floor, ignoring my best friend as she calls after me. I step inside as soon as the doors open, turning around to face her. Kate stands there, staring at me. I force a smile and offer her that 'not now' look, blinking away the water in my blue eyes. Thankfully, it waited for the doors to slide to a shut before it trickled out of my eyes and rolled seamlessly down my face.

I'm shielded by my guardians as the cart falls to the lobby. I watch the dial as it counts down, distracted when I felt vibrations from inside my purse.

I delve into my bag and push aside the papers and tissues, finding my cell phone to discover it blaring at me noisily. His name buzzes under his picture winking at me. It's one I took of him on our honeymoon. I caught him off-guard while he was looking out at the sea. I called his name and got him to spin toward me, straight into the shot of my waiting camera. It's a cute and artless picture of him, and I love it. But, it's not enough to provoke me to hit 'accept'.

I press cancel and throw my phone back into my purse.

Everything became a blur when I stepped out of the elevator and into the hectic lobby. I heard a commotion behind me and saw a charge of people moving over to it, but I continued on my way out of the building and into the wash of grey clouds, raindrops and rapid moving figures.

I scuttle over to the back of the car and to Wilson opening the door for me. He opens it in perfect time, allowing me to move without breaking stride before I clambered in. I draw my seatbelt around myself as I settle, waiting for Bailey to slip into the seat next to me and for the other two to take to the front.

I'm grateful that we didn't wait around, Wilson pulling us away from the sidewalk and into the mix of late morning traffic.

The engine drones quietly, vibrating along the road as we merge into the parallel rows of other drivers trying to make it onto the highway. We're all silent, nothing interrupting the air except my heavy, wheezy breathes and the occasional sniffle from my leaky nose. But, with impressive timing, by phone starts screaming again.

I groan, forcing myself to locate it in my purse for the second time. The effort is too much for me right now. I feel like every muscle is working against me, weighing me down.

I stare at my phone, letting it ring out, until he gave up and stopped pursuing me. His picture disappeared along with his ringtone, and my screen succumbed to blackness once more.

As I drop it to my side I catch a pair of eyes staring at me through the mirror. They offer that 'you're going to be in trouble' sort of look that people usually give me when I defy Christian. And, like I've always done, I shrug it off and turn my head away.

In the time it took me to take in a breath and semi-release it the car is set alight with a ring piercing through the sound system. All eyes drift to the steering wheel and to the hands grappling it, waiting for them to answer the call and meet with the predictable voice on the other side.

Wilson drops his hand, breaking with his precise ten-and-two position, and lightly presses the button to accept the call. Christian bursts through the speaker simultaneously.

"Is Ana there?"

I try to make myself seem smaller in my seat. Sawyer swivels in the chair directly in front of me, twisting to look back at me as I cower into a miniscule lump of flesh. He lifts his eyebrows at me, trying to get me to answer Christian, but I remain silent.

"Well?" Christian persists, his voice growing sterner.

"Yes. Mrs Grey is here, sir." Sawyer answers, reluctantly.

I'm motionless and un-responding, completely dazed and distant. There's a pause - Christian muted and impatient for an answer, preferably from my voice, and Sawyer silenced without a clue of what he should do next.

His hazel eyes search mine, narrowing as he waits for me to respond. He emits a huff and spins back around in his seat.

"Mrs Grey's asleep, sir." He lies, dropping his voice to a mere whisper. I can see his shoulders tensing up as he disobeys Grey rule number one: no lying to the boss.

"Oh…" Christian returns, an undercurrent of surprise in his tone. "She's asleep already? How long have you been in the car?"

_Fuck. Why does he have to be such a smartass all the time?!_

I shake my head, knowing that it's only a matter of seconds before I'm ratted out and have to face the wrath of Christian Grey.

"Not long, sir. But, Mrs Grey isn't feeling well." Wilson chimes in, looking back at me through the mirror. "She's asleep in the back."

"Has she got her seatbelt on?"

"Yes, sir. We wouldn't allow her to travel without it on."

"Get her home, safely." Christian demands. "Make sure she's okay and heads to bed when she gets back… And, make sure she eats something, too."

I roll my eyes and Christian pauses. I start to panic. _What if he knows? What if he's had a camera installed in the car, too?_ I look all around me, nervously.

He hangs up and his voice vanishes, replaced with the bleeping of a cut off call.

I mouth a quick thank you to the front seats. They shrug it off but I know it's not something they wanted to do. If I go against Christian I'll end up with a sore behind or a ringing in my ears. If they go against him, they could get fired. I don't brush off their allegiance. But, I don't shower them with thanks either. I sink back into my chair and roll my head against the seat, looking out of the window mindlessly.

* * *

My breaths are laboured and chesty as I struggle to climb the stairs. I splutter a few times, releasing the rail to cover my mouth to stop myself from infecting the whole house with the monster inside me.

I count the steps as I haul my limp body up them. All I want is to get in the shower, stand underneath it on the hottest temperature I can withstand, and wash away the stickiness. I want to throw on some old, well-worn sweats and crawl into bed, curl into a ball and hide under the comforter.

Reaching the top of the stairs I move toward our bedroom, passing the nursery as I go. I check inside, managing a smile as I dream of the day I get to carry him in there, settle him in his crib and watch over him as he sleeps.

_Sixteen more weeks_, I tell myself. _Sixteen weeks_.

I continue into our bedroom, pushing the door to a close as I enter. I tug my hair out of my ponytail, heading around the bed to the bathroom. The closet door is open and I come to a stop when a long shadow flickered inside, casting a line up the sand coloured wall. I freeze. I twist my head back to the door, wondering if I should call for help. I hear the scraping of metal on metal and despite my hesitations I investigate for myself.

_One, two, three_…

I hold my breath as I creep around the doorway.

"Oh, thank God –" I release the air in my chest, pressing my hand over my speedy heart.

Gail turns to face me, holding a hanger as she fixes one of Christian's shirts to it.

"Ana, you're home." She answers, glancing down at her wristwatch. "You're early. Is everything okay?"

I open my mouth and unleash a coughing fit, struggling to talk without a tickle in my throat taking precedence. I nod, unconvincingly.

"Just a cold…" I breathe.

"Oh dear, I'm sorry to hear that. I was just putting some laundry away. I'll be out of your hair in a minute."

"No, it's fine." I sniff. "I'm just going to grab a shower and get into bed. Sleep's probably the best thing for me right now."

"I can fix you some soup, if you're hungry?" Gail worries, placing the hanger on the rail. "I'll be done with this in a minute. I can have it ready for when you finish your shower."

"Are you sure? You don't have to –"

"It'd be my pleasure." She smiles, sensitively. "Tomato, okay?"

I nod and creep out of the closet, catapulting straight into the bathroom next door. I wonder if I'll ever be able to eat Chicken again.

* * *

I could only hack the shower for a little while. The steam billowing around and bouncing off the glass walls burdened the sickness sweltering inside my stomach, making me feel lightheaded and weaker than I already was. I had to cling onto the every available surface as I moved.

Tucking the end of the towel under my arm I kneel down in front of the dresser, looking for something comfortable and soft to wear. I pull out some sweat pants from one of my drawers and start rummaging through Christian's for a t-shirt. Searching in the bottom drawer I come across a deep crimson sweatshirt in the mix of blues, greys and whites. Intrigued, I dig it out and unfold it on the floor in front of me.

"Harvard, huh -" I mumble, reading the logo sprawled across the chest. I run my fingers over the soft fabric, a little stunned at the condition of it. It's pristine. It doesn't even look as if it's been worn and it has to be what, seven years old?

_He was only there a little while, remember. He dropped out._ My subconscious reminds me, standing in front of the mirror and admiring her non-pregnancy physique. I ignore her and push to my feet, dropping my towel to the floor and changing into my sweat pants. I haven't got any pregnancy ones yet, but these still fit everywhere else except my bump. I have to roll down the waistband so it can sit under the heavy swell.

I worry for a second whether I'll fit in the sweatshirt, but I'm surprised to find that there's actually enough room in here for another me. I shift and twist the sweatshirt into place and flick my wet hair out of the hood, quickly tying it into a loose bun as I move out of the closet and into the bedroom.

I fling back the comforter and throw a few cushions off the bed, skulking in and immediately cocooning myself. I roll around for a moment, finding a comfy spot and plumping up my pillows. I seek out Christian's, swapping his with mine.

I need his smell.

I lathered myself up with his favourite body wash, but it isn't the same when it's pervaded with my own, natural scent. For a long time, whenever I was sick all I wanted was something of my Mom's – one of her sweaters, or a blanket with her perfume sprayed all over it. But, now, I want Christian.

I close my eyes and shield myself, bringing my knees up and close to my stomach. I try to block everything out but I couldn't stop the tears from falling.

I just want my Christian.

* * *

Yawning and rubbing my tired eyes, I clamber down the stairs.

I step down onto the cold, wooden floors and steady myself, my feet starting to slip and slide along the floor thanks to my socks. I look up and down the hall, wondering what the time is. I forgot to check when I rolled out of bed a few minutes ago. I look out of the large, bay window at the end of the hallway and see that it's dark out there now.

Christian should be home.

I rock on the spot for a second, huffing quietly, speculating where he could be in the house. I know he's home. I resolve that his office is the safest bet. He's usually in there.

I shuffle off in the direction of his office, hearing muted laughter as I approach the door. It grows louder, guiding me closer to my needed solace and comfort. Christian's infectious laugh draws me in.

I push through his door, opening it without knocking, to find him sat behind his desk with a broad grin stretched over his lips, his hands behind head while relaxing back into his chair. His eyes shift over to me after a beat, moving away from his guest.

"Oh –" I stutter, coming to a stop in the doorway. I search the back of the head in front of me, struggling to make out who it is until he turned and offered a welcoming, joyful smile. "Carrick?"

"Ana." He beams, greeting me. He makes to stand but I stop him with a weak smile. "I hope my favourite daughter-in-law and grandchild are okay?"

I jerk my head, nodding lazily, in response. Christian pounds out of his chair, quickly moving over to me. I charge first, meeting him and slamming my arms around his waist. I push my head into his chest, rubbing my cheek into him.

I squeeze my arms around his back.

"Whoa –" He exhales, sharply. It took him a few seconds before he wrapped his arms around me and his fingers found their way into my still damp hair. "Ana?"

I crush my face into him, harder. His fingers flex in my hair, his other hand on my shoulder blade.

"Baby?" He tries to rouse me again, attempting to separate us. I resist. "Ana, what's wrong?"

I shake my head, clamping my eyes shut.

I sniff harshly, desperately hoping that my sinus will clear so I can breathe in his smell. I need it. I need his smell, his touch, his warmth. I need all of it.

He shifts and I feel his eyes on me, checking me over. He lets out a concerned whinge before holding me tightly in his arms, his hand starting to rub my back in concentric circles.

"She's sick –" Christian mouths. His chest vibrates as he speaks mutely. Carrick mumbles something from behind me but the strength of Christian's heart silences it.

_Twenty-eight_…

I grimace.

_Christian's twenty-eight. He's twenty-eight years old_. I repeat to myself, over and over.

_Danielle was twenty-eight_.

My lower lip starts to deceive me, quivering desolately. My legs start to tremble, too. Christian adjusts his balance. I'm reluctant to lessen my hold of him. I don't want to let go. Ever.

"Dad –" He continues despite my intrusion. "Do you want to stay for dinner?"

"I'd love to. Your mother is working a double shift at the hospital tonight. A virus is spreading like wildfire through the children. She didn't want to leave them… You know how she is."

Christian hums in agreement.

"Right, come on, let's get something to eat." I feel his fingers slip out of my hair and curve under my chin, gently lifting my face up to him. I open my eyes and stare up into his warm, comforting greys. He cups my jaw and caresses it, smiling down at me. "You'll feel better soon. I promise."

I want to shake my head in disagreement but he stops me, stooping down a little to kiss the tip of my sore nose.

He starts to pull away but realises I'm not going to let go, so he takes me with him. He strides slowly over to the door, hunching forward to open it when we got there, allowing Carrick to exit first. Just before he moved out, too, he stopped and looked down at me.

"I almost forgot. I picked up my mail earlier and accidentally grabbed some of yours." He tells me. "It's on my desk."

"Okay…" I mouth, croakily. "I'll get it now –"

I don't plan on coming back in here tonight. The only places I want to be are the kitchen, our bed and his arms.

Christian smiles and lets the door close behind him, leaving me alone in his dimly light office. It's so clinical in here, the same as his office at work. The dark floors are matched with the dark furnishings, the only light coming from the insanely large window and the white walls surrounding his desk sitting dominantly in the middle of the room.

I move over to the desk and see the pile of my mail in the corner. I flick through them as I make my way out of the room. I expect they're just bills or work related crap, nothing deathly important. I check over them, hitting an invisible wall when I came to one that brings that vicious, sickening feeling back into my throat.

"No…" I beg, my eyes tracing over my name.

_Mrs A Grey._

_Handwritten._

"It can't…" I tremble. I suck in a deep, hurried breath as I turn the envelope over in my hands. I splice it open with my finger, tearing it apart and removing the crumpled letter inside.

I drop the other envelopes to the floor.

I unfold the paper in my hand, bile rising and scorching as it comes higher and higher up my throat.

My stomach churns as I scan over the letter and the handwriting I've seen numerous times, more recently on a smaller, scribbled note.

I look down the page, feeling weaker as I hit the last word.

_Danielle x_


	85. Chapter 85

******Disclaimer: The majority of the characters that are portrayed in this story are those that pertain to the Fifty Shades trilogy by E L James. These characters remain her sole property respectively. The plots and themes explored in this story are those of the author, infamouschelsea. The author is in no way affiliated with James and/or the publishing corporation which produced the original works. Any recognisable brands, places or persons used in the story are the sole property of their respected owners and are not the property of the author. No copyright infringement is intended.**

* * *

******Sally - **That's fantastic to hear. I'm glad you're enjoying the story. I hope you like this chapter, too. Thank you. x

**Kathd16 - **I've been looking forward to this chapter as well. I hope you like it. Thank you. x

**MX - **Thank you. I'm glad you liked the last chapter, and the little nod to Harvard. :) Looking forward to hearing your thoughts on this one. Glad you had the reaction you did while reading the last update. It affected me, too. Much Love. x

**LA - **Glad you liked it and are still enjoying the story. :) I hope you like this one as well, and I'm looking forward to hearing your thoughts on it. Thank you, LA. x

**Gwen** - Yup, very poor Ana! Pregnant, sick and now this? Even I'm feeling sorry for her, the poor thing. I'm glad you liked the last chapter. I hope you like this one. x

* * *

**Hi Everyone,**

**I hope you liked the last update and have been looking forward to this one. It's been an "interesting" one to write. **

**Are you ready for Danielle's story?**

**Much Love and Happy Readings,**

**Chelsea x**

* * *

I stagger backward on my heels, thumbing around for the chair Carrick just vacated. I need to sit down before I fall down.

I feel cold. I feel sick. It hits my core. I run my fingers over my heart to check it's still there, but find it slow and perishing in my empty chest.

I feel empty. Like someone has drained my whole body of blood and has left a sadistic, icy burn in its place.

I wrap my fingers around the arm of the chair as I lower myself down. My eyes lift to the door. I want to call for Christian. I want to scream his name until he finds me.

I open my mouth.

Nothing.

My eyes sting with the tears developing there.

I close them for a moment, before dropping them to my hands.

There's more than one page.

I weep a tender breath, reaching over to the lamp on the desk, to bring it closer to me.

* * *

_Dear Ana,_

_I think I should start by apologising to you. I'm so sorry for everything I have done across you and your husband. I lied to you and deceived you, and I'm sorry. I can't begin to tell you how sorry I am over this. If I could have my time over again I wouldn't have done it. I hate myself for all of this. But, I did it and I'm paying the price for it now. _

_I'm sorry for contacting you the way I did. I wanted to explain everything then, but I couldn't. I didn't have access to anything substantial at the time – I had to use whatever piece of paper I could find and hope that I could get enough down in the time I had. I know I shouldn't have bothered you. I mean, I can't exactly blame you for not wanting anything to do with me after everything I've done, but I needed to warn you. Ana, you deserve to know the truth about what's happened. I owe you the truth. _

_I really hope you get this letter before it's too late. They know I wrote to you. They played me the message you left on my answering machine. They didn't like it. They didn't like that I was betraying them, again. I'm risking a lot by writing to you, again, but this is the only way I can contact you and tell you everything. They've taken everything from me. I had to bribe them for this paper and a pen. I told them I wanted to write down my thoughts, keep a journal etc. I just hope they don't get to this letter before you do. I'm prepared to take whatever punishment they throw at me because you need to hear this. Call it clearing my conscience or redemption, if you will. _

_I don't know how much you know already, if anything, so I'll start at the beginning. _

_I came to Seattle on March 9 2009._

_I was 25 years old, a college graduate and full of high hopes and dreams. I was desperate to make a name for myself and get into publishing. Since I was 19 that was all I wanted to do. After spending hours and hours trying to find work I met a guy online, he said he was the CEO of an independent publishing house here, in Seattle. I was ecstatic and sent him my portfolio. He got back to me straightaway and said he saw potential and he offered me a position. He even said he'd arrange an apartment for me to move into – he said he would cover the first months' rent, until I got on my feet. _

_When I got here I realised that there was no publishing house, no job, no potential and I was left with no money as a result. I sold everything I had in Michigan in order to pay for my flight – my car, my belongings, you name it. I moved cross-country with $167 in my pocket. You can't get very far with just $167. I was a mess. I've never admitted to this, but for those first few nights I slept on the streets. I didn't have enough money to pay for a motel or anything. For most of the night I would just walk around, killing time, until I found a bench or a shelter to sleep in. On the fourth day I caved and called my Mom, told her everything and she sent some money to me, to keep me going until she got here. She agreed to move here to be with me. She quit her job and used all of her savings on her airline ticket and putting down a deposit on a one-bedroom apartment. It was all she could afford. _

_It took a while for me to find a job here. I wasn't fussy or anything, there just wasn't any work available. You know how it was – the bottom of the economy fell through and places didn't want to waste money on taking new people on. I was so desperate to earn some money, so I could help cover rent and bills. The day I came here all of my dreams were pushed aside and thrown in the trash. They didn't matter anymore – I knew it wasn't going to happen, so I gave up. I met some dodgy people on the streets and I got caught up in a drugs smuggle. They'd give me the drugs to pass on to someone, and when I returned with the money they'd give me a cut. I'm not proud of it. One night I was sending the stash to a bar, to one of the big guys dealing there. He was a pig and hit on me when I arrived, but he offered me a job in the bar – said he could "use someone like me". It still makes me feel sick thinking about him. He made me come to work every night in a short skirt and a low-cut shirt. I should've told him to go fuck himself, but the broke person inside me told me to lump it and deal with it. It was money, after all. _

_I met Jack Hyde on May 7 of that year. I was working and he came into the bar. I remember it like it was yesterday. I'll never forget that night. I'll go to the grave with it fresh in my mind. _

_It was one of those unusually quiet evenings, barely anyone came to the bar and those who did were only there for a fix from the boss. But, things changed when Jack arrived with his group of friends. They tore the place up like a hurricane! They were loud and started throwing chairs and tables, and things got out of hand pretty quick. I was on my own, too – the owner was out back getting blown by some needy, desperate junkie. I was busy trying to deal with some emotional slut who'd just dumped her boyfriend or something, and when I had my back two guys tried to break into the cash register. I didn't know what to do – I couldn't take them on! But, I didn't need to. Jack flew over the bar and beat them up, there and then. He knocked them unconscious and dragged them out of the building. God, I should've been repulsed by him – I had just watched him beat them to a pulp and he came back in covered in their blood! – but, I wasn't. I fell for his 'Knight in shining armour' stunt. I was stupid. _

_In a month we were getting pretty serious and he asked me and my Mom to move in with him. He didn't care that we came as a package – he said he knew me and my Mom were close and he loved that about us. He told me how he was an orphan and he hated his adoptive parents – said they weren't good enough. He said he wanted to support us both. I thought someone, somewhere, was looking down on me and had finally given me an angel. Boy, was I wrong!_

_Jack and I were together for almost a year before I figured out who he really was. He was a prick! A worthless, arrogant, cheating prick! But, I'm sure you already know that about him. I found out he had been cheating on me with his assistants. I walked in on him fucking one of them in his office at SIP. I dumped his ass quicker than you can count to three! I had managed to save some money while I was with him, and had enough to cover a couple of months' rent on a new apartment. I would've had a lot more if that bastard had kept his dirty fingers out of it! He must have stolen about $12,000 from me. I tried to file a lawsuit against him but he threatened me. He called me and said he had videos of us together. Jack was into some weird shit that I hated but did it to please him – isn't that what you do for the person you love? Well, he said that if I went through with the lawsuit he'd put the videos on the internet, for the world to see. What was I supposed to do? I didn't want my Mom seeing that sort of shit! So, I dropped the lawsuit, got my things from his place and left. The day I walked out was the last time I heard from him – until October 17 2011._

_Jack sent me a note in the mail. To this day I don't know how he managed it. I mean, he's in prison and I thought his mail was being checked for that sort of thing. He gave me his former access code for SIP and a phone number. He said I had to call the number on October 20 at 14:30 and give them the access code. He didn't tell me why I had to do it or who I was giving the code to, he just told me to do it. He said he had someone on the outside that could upload the videos of me if I refused to do as he said. I was scared. I was working for you and I thought I was doing well – I was sure you would fire me if you found out I had done that sort of shit – so I did it. I made the call and tried to forget about it. I swear to you, Ana, I had no idea what he was trying to do! I didn't know that he was going to try to hack the Grey Publishing system! I wouldn't have done it if I did. I would've done anything to stop those videos going online but I wasn't going to piss off the best boss I'd ever had in the process! Ana, I looked up to you. Christ, you're 22 years old and you're already an editor of a publishing house. You're happily married to one of the richest men in America and you're having a baby. You've got it all. What do I have? I'm 28, I've spent 99% of my life living with my Mom and I don't even have two dollars to rub together. I have nothing left. They've got it all. _

_The day I heard about a possible position at G.P. I thought this was it. I thought this was my big break – my last attempt at becoming something in this world, other than a drop out, low-life with no money. My Mom came home from her new job and told me to get my résumé together. She said that some of the other women were talking about what happened to you – what Jack did to you – and her boss mentioned that she was close with the owner of G.P. She said that you would need someone to replace you while you were recovering. I didn't expect to get an interview, let alone be hired! _

_On the morning I started working for you Elena Lincoln emailed me, using her salon's email account. She'd helped my Mom out a lot before that – fixing deposits for a larger apartment, car repayments etc. She gave my Mom a present to pass onto me – a Cartier wristwatch – a congratulatory gift for getting the job. Elena led me to believe that she had spoken with Mr Grey and helped get me the job. That morning she said if I ever needed anything she would help me. She told me you were a 'loose cannon' and hated competition. She said you'd try to fire me out of jealousy, and when you did I was to go to her because she would convince Mr Grey to ignore you. She told me you were jealous of her, and the relationship she had with your husband. I didn't believe her. At least, not until the shit hit the fan!_

_When you announced your pregnancy to everyone at G.P. I overstepped the mark, big time! I thought it was my chance to propel myself, remind you that I had done a good job before and was ready to take on a more senior position. I wasn't trying to steal your job. I didn't want to piss you off, I swear. I loved working for you. I loved working at G.P. Well, when you left after that meeting I was scared I was going to lose my job. I thought you were going to fire me. That's when I contacted Elena and asked for her help. We had dinner that evening and she told me everything would be okay – she said she was going to speak to Mr Grey and everything would be fine. I believed her. I wasn't fired – I genuinely thought she had helped me keep my job. I didn't know any better at the time. I was so grateful for her "help". I told her I would find a way to repay her for what she had done and she brushed it off – she told me she'd find something, eventually. She smiled at me when she said it, and it worried me. I could see a hint of vice in her smirk. _

_Elena didn't contact me again until November 18. _

_She emailed me at work and said she wanted a favour – she wanted to be repaid for what she had "done" for me before. She wanted me to arrange an interview for a friend of hers at Grey Publishing, for the illustrator's role. Naturally, I was curious – why couldn't her friend just go through the normal channels? Why couldn't she apply personally? But, more importantly, why couldn't Elena just go to Mr Grey and ask him for the interview? She snapped at me, telling me that because she was the one who recommended me to Mr Grey, and I seriously fucked up, that it looked bad on her, and he wasn't happy with her. I felt so bad. I blamed myself, thinking I'd almost ruined their friendship, so I agreed to do it. I mean, it was just an interview and there was no saying she would get the job. I didn't really see the harm in it. _

_Elena made sure that I wasn't going to back out on what I said. She was at my apartment, waiting for me, when I got home from work. She wasn't alone, either. There were five men in total. She made it some sort of game, allowing them to beat me until I promised. She said she'd go after my Mom if I didn't do it. I promised her, over and over, and then she left – leaving me with them. They tied my hands and feet together and beat me. I think I must have passed out at some point, I don't remember them leaving but they did. I knew I needed to go to the hospital for a check-up. I was in so much pain. They'd broken 6 ribs. I didn't tell anyone what had happened. I lied to the doctors and my Mom. I didn't want anyone to find out. I was scared they would come back if I did. _

_The following day I got the details of her friend and entered them into the system at work, adding her name on the list. I had to go in, even though I felt like crying because of the pain. I had to do what Elena said. _

_I had to use Tom's computer, knowing that I didn't have access to anything senior anymore and he was the only person who had access to the lists, bar your assistant. I met with Elena's friend on the day she came for the interview. She's one of the good ones, Ana. She's innocent in this. I figured that out when she ran out of the building before her interview. I saw her leaving and she looked upset, so I followed her. She said she couldn't do it – she couldn't do that to you. She cried and said Elena was just using her - that she wasn't her friend. Elena just wanted someone else on the inside, someone to gather information. Andy's been a good friend to me. She's been there for me, through all of this, helping me. She's cleaned me up and looked after me. She's had her fair share of shit in the past, but she's amazing. If your new illustrator doesn't work out I think you should meet with her. I've seen some of her work and it's incredible, and I'm not just saying that as her friend. I'm sure her details are still on the G.P. system. Look up Mrs Anderson, if you get the chance. _

_Everything started to really spiral out of control the day Elena came to see you in one of the rooms in G.P. _

_I am so sorry I gave her my card, so she could get into the building. I'm sure you know that I was the one who did that. If I could go back and change things, I would. I hate myself for doing it. I shouldn't have allowed her in. I just didn't want to get hurt again. I was prepared to do anything to protect myself. I guess I shouldn't have bothered, really. When you left, after seeing her, I emailed her. You were so angry and I wanted to know what had happened. 11pm that night she sent her friend R to my apartment. I think he's one of her fuck buddies or something – she's always got them hanging around, and I think some are seriously young. I don't know how old R is. I didn't get a good look at him. Something told me he was older, probably the oldest of them all. He blindfolded me and said I needed to be shown a lesson. He said I needed to be punished. Elena told him to do whatever necessary, however many times, until I understood the "error of my ways". _

_He didn't stop. I screamed at him to stop but he didn't. I cried and cried, begging him. He's worse than Jack. So much worse than Jack ever was._

_When I was fired he made more visits. He was always there. He said they'd lost someone on the inside. He said they'd lost their "secret weapon" and now they'd need to start getting inventive in their ways of getting to you. He said they would get you, whatever it takes. All Elena said was that you ruined everything. She said you got between her and Mr Grey, and you warped his mind and made him choose between you and her. She said you need to pay. _

_Ana, please, please, be careful. I don't know what lengths she'll go to, but I know she won't stop. She won't stop until she gets what she wants. _

_I don't know if I'll be able to contact you again. It's getting worse. I'm seriously running out of time. They won't stop. I know that it'll only stop when I'm dead. There's too many of them – soon as one group leaves, another arrives. I want them to stop. I don't know how much more I can take. I want them to hurry up and end it already. They keep telling me they'll do it, that they'll "take care of me". I'm ready for them to do it, now. I'm not scared anymore._

_I'm sorry for everything, Ana. I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me, but I understand if you can't. I never wanted to cause trouble. _

_Be careful. I know you have a security team but, please, make sure you stay with them at all times. They won't come after you if you're protected. They want to get you on your own._

_If you get the chance, could you do something for me? Can you tell my Mom that I'm sorry and I love her? I can't imagine what she must be feeling right now. Please, tell her I'll always be with her. I'll be her red, red rose. She'll understand what I mean._

_Take care of yourself, Ana. Make sure you're the best Mom to your baby. I know he/she will be lucky to have you!_

_Forever sorry,_

_Danielle x_

* * *

I waited for the tears to stop before I left Christian's office.

I closed my eyes, wiped away the residue sorrow with the cuffs of Christian's sweatshirt, and prayed.

I folded up the letter and shoved it into the front pocket of my sweats. I drew in a steady breath before I turned off the light and stepped out, into the hallway.

I focused on my breaths as I walked to the kitchen, counting them deliberately.

_Seven, eight, nine, ten_…

"There you are."

Looking up from my feet I see Christian smile at me, while setting a plate onto the breakfast bar.

"I was just about to come get you."

I felt the corners of my mouth lifting, but it wasn't a smile. I swallowed, hard, and moved to where he was standing. He was stretching over the counter, giving Carrick a beer from the refrigerator, when I came up behind him and leaned into his back. I pushed my arms around his front, knotting my fingers against his stomach, and rested my cheek on him.

"Hey…" Christian whispered, spinning on his heel to face me. I kept my hands together as he moved, refusing to let go. "What's up?"

His fingers crept under my chin, pushing my face up to meet his. His doting slate eyes stole mine away, gazing curiously into the darkness of watery, sad blue. He caressed my cheeks with his thumbs, rolling away the forced smile.

I didn't say a word.

Christian just looked into me, holding me there for a second before lowering himself and bringing his lips to mine. I closed my eyes gratefully, wanting his affection more than anything.

"Still feeling bad?" His breath tickles my lips.

I nod my head, faintly.

"You might feel a little better after dinner. Gail said she made you something to eat but you fell asleep?"

Slipping his fingers down my arms Christian walked me over to the stools, on the other side of the breakfast bar. He helped me get into the chair before taking to the one next to me, adjacent to Carrick already tucking into his dish.

I picked at my food, pushing it around my plate with my fork and occasionally succumbing to the infant appetite wriggling inside me. I forced myself to eat it, but it wasn't Gail's cooking that repelled me. There was nothing wrong with the food.

Christian and his father spoke fluidly, the conversation ebbing back and forth continuously. They tried to bring me in on it but I barely managed a few words. Both of them smiled at me, convinced they knew why I was distant. The only person who knew was my little Blip. I felt him kick out at me, offering his comfort to his wounded mother.

I kept Christian's hand away from his knife. I clutched my fingers around him the whole time, refusing to release him for a second. I just couldn't… I couldn't let go.

* * *

I tried calling my Mom after Carrick left. I knew she wasn't at home, an earlier email last week told me that her and Bob had decided to go to Miami for a few days, but I just wanted to hear her voice. I called eight times, feeling a tingling, homely sensation every time I heard her outgoing message.

I hide the letter in the top drawer of my desk, where the other one has sat since I received it over a month ago. I couldn't keep it on me.

I heard Christian head upstairs around ten, finally giving up on his spread-sheets. I shuffled out, into the hallway, just in time to see him hit the top stair and saunter off in the direction of our room. I followed him like his shadow, reaching our room in a flash.

I could hear him humming to himself, the sound of the shower masking it a little. The bathroom door was fully open to me, allowing me to sneak in easily and find him standing under the shower head and pleasuring in its warmth.

I can't remember walking over to the shower cubicle, or opening the glass door. I don't even remember moving inside it, or closing the glass shield behind me.

"Shit!"

Catching me in his peripheral Christian froze, his hands coming up to rest on the wall in front of him. He pursed his lips and breathed heavily, refusing to look at me until his heart had come back to him.

"Ana –"

Turning to face me, his eyes dropped down my body… down my _clothed_ body.

I could feel my hair dampening, and I could feel my clothes starting to shrink and cling to me. But, I didn't feel the water.

Christian shook his head at me, meeting me in less than two strides and capturing my face so he could examine me. I looked up to him, seeing his hair flop down around his eyes and the water drip off the tip of his nose and down onto me.

"Baby, are you okay?" He spoke firmly, worried and fearful.

I tried to answer him but when I did, I snapped. I snapped like an elastic band. A cry escaped me, the floodgates opening and every inch of me crumpling, depressing and sinking into him.

I cried. I _really _cried. I pushed my head into his chest, my whole body shaking against him.

Christian held me close to him for a while, wrapping his arms around me, until he moved his attention to getting me out of my sodden clothes. I stood lifeless as he tugged my sweats from me and threw them to the far corner of the shower.

"Baby, tell me what's wrong… For the love of God, tell me…" He pleaded with me, cradling me in his arms as we slid down the wall of the cubicle until our behinds met with the floor.

I crawled into his lap and clung to him, digging my fingers into his slippery skin.

I told him everything. My words trickled out, and Christian's arms cocooned around me with his lips brushing my temples.

* * *

"I'm almost done." Christian tells me, as if answering a question I never asked or even thought of. "I don't want you to go to bed with wet hair."

Sitting between his legs, right on the edge of the bed, I keep still and allow him to massage the water out of my hair with a towel. I rest my hands on his thighs pressing against my own. His ankles are wrapped around mine, caringly, holding me in place.

He's gentle with me, religiously drying my hair from root to tip. Finishing, I push one of my hands through it, finding it softer than it is when I use a dryer and brush.

"I'm sorry."

"Huh?" I grunt, twisting my head to the side so I can see him. Leaning forward he hugged me from behind, his hands meeting together in the middle of my stomach. His chin came to rest on my shoulder.

"I'm sorry for not being there for you today. I should've been there with you." He apologises, lightly kissing my shoulder. "You shouldn't have been alone. I should've been there."

"You didn't know… Nobody knew." I correct myself. "But, I wasn't alone. Bailey was with me."

"That's not what I meant."

I run my hands over his, slipping my fingers between the gaps.

"I should've asked you about it." He continues, beating himself up. "When Taylor said the cops had been to see you, too, I just assumed it was over the fire…"

"What did they tell you, about the fire?" I ask, trying to change the subject.

"Not much. They've found a couple of partial prints. They're going to run them through the system. Oh, and they want us to give our prints. They want to rule ours out."

"They think we've –"

"No, but we were there. They just want to make sure it's not our prints they've pulled." He clarifies, nuzzling his face into my neck. "Are you feeling any better?"

I shrug my shoulders. "I don't know how I feel."

Christian tightened his hold of me.

"What am I supposed to do now?" I ask, quietly. Dropping my head forward I look down at our resting hands. "Christian, what do I do?"

"Now, we're going to sleep and you're going to get the rest you need."

"But –"

"And, then –" He quietens me, "tomorrow we will go to the police department and tell them everything we know. We'll hand them the letters and answer their questions."

"Will you come with me?"

"I thought I had made that clear, already. I'll be with you every step, baby. Every step."

I close my eyes and lean back, into his chest. When we finally got out of the shower Christian covered me in my big, fluffy robe and wrapped a towel around his waist. Now, we're bare and coupled.

I feel a rogue tear creep down my face, but his nursing fingers happily wiped it away.

"Don't let go…" I whispered silently, my voice weak and broken. "Don't ever let go, Christian… I don't want to lose you…"

He kissed my temple and my cheek, coming down the side of my throat and my shoulder.

"I don't want you to die…" It fell out of my mouth in a small cry. "I don't want you to die, Christian."

"I'm not going to die… I'm never going to leave you, baby. _Never_."


	86. Chapter 86

**Disclaimer: The majority of the characters that are portrayed in this story are those that pertain to the Fifty Shades trilogy by E L James. These characters remain her sole property respectively. The plots and themes explored in this story are those of the author, infamouschelsea. The author is in no way affiliated with James and/or the publishing corporation which produced the original works. Any recognisable brands, places or persons used in the story are the sole property of their respected owners and are not the property of the author. No copyright infringement is intended.**

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**LA** – I'm a sucker for the details. Studying Literature forces me to look for the details and find the significance of it, so naturally I use that when writing. I'm putting it to good use, much to my lecturers' happiness! :) I'm looking forward to seeing how this develops, too. I've had it planned for a while now. It feels great finding something that I enjoy and others seemingly do as well. Always a bonus! Thank you. x

**MX** – I aim to please! They've come a long way, and hopefully that shows in the fact she did confide in him. In the past she's kept it to herself and it's only made matters worse, this time they're a team – something that we're all glad for, I think! I hope you're well! :) Much Love! x

**Gwen** – Thank you so much! I'm glad you enjoyed it. Yes, Elena is pure evil! Let's hope the police will be able to resolve this before it gets worse. ;) x

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**Thank you for the reviews. Always, always appreciated, so many hearty thanks to each of you.**

**Apologies for the delay. It's been a very busy week, unfortunately.**

**It was emotional for me to write Danielle's letter, so it's wonderful to see that so many of you reacted the same way. I know that there are a few of you who dislike what has happened to Danielle, and you're anxious for justice etc., but we will get there. Although, it's horrible what Danielle endured, hopefully some of you will understand why I've done this because, after all, something big has to happen in order to bring the b*tch troll down. Excuse my language!**

**I'm looking forward to exploring this with you.**

**Much Love and Happy Readings,**

**Chelsea x**

* * *

"A-Ana?"

"Huh?"

Twisting on my stool, I turn to face the sleepy, croaky voice clambering into the kitchen with heavy-footed steps. I wipe the corners of my mouth with the cuff of my robe.

"What's wrong?" I ask, drinking him in as he moves over to me.

Christian stumbles through the doorway and onto the cool, parquet floor, rubbing his eyes crudely. He saunters to my side, his carved hips rolling as he drags his body tiredly. His grey pyjama pants are hanging from them casually, his V and happy trail gloriously available and nude. I open my arms for a hug, offering a weak smile. He growls a low, weird sort of noise before slumping into my arms, dropping his chest onto mine and sinking his head to my shoulder.

He nuzzles and breathes deeply against my neck.

"Wrong? What's wrong?" He repeats, grumpily. "It's 4:30 in the morning and you're down here… eating _ice-cream_?!"

He pulls away from me, noticing my guilt-ridden snack sitting on the counter. He moves around my shoulders, making a grab for the tub. I nod, embarrassed, and begin to toy with the inside of my cheek, dropping my eyes to my hands.

"I couldn't sleep…" I begin. Christian focuses on the tub, ploughing my spoon into it and scooping some of the deliciousness into his mouth. "And, the baby –"

"Hm, this is so good…" He interrupts, hastily taking another mouthful. After indulging he lifts his eyes to me, "Baby keeping you awake?"

I nod, forcing a smile. "He's doing somersaults in there. He hasn't stopped… I love that he's moving, and I love feeling him, but…" I sigh, slouching forward. "I just couldn't lie still in bed and I didn't want to wake you… I wriggled and knocked into you and you moaned… I guess ice-cream's the only thing worth doing at four in the morning when you can't sleep."

"I can think of something else worth doing –" Christian smirks at me, setting the tub on the counter. "Baby, you should've woken me. I've already told you, I'll gladly stay awake with you. We're in this together, remember."

"I know… I know, but you looked so peaceful. I'd feel bad for disturbing you."

"Or, maybe you just wanted to keep Ben and Jerry to yourself?" He quips, bringing a genuine smile to my mouth. He wraps an arm around me and tugs me into his chest. I set my cheek against his bare warmth. "Feeling any better?"

I shake my head and sniff hard, unable to breathe properly through my nose.

"I'll call my Mom later. She might know of something you can take."

"Don't… I don't want to take anything." I refuse, "not with the baby. I don't want him full of drugs. I checked online and everywhere says I need to keep my fluids up and take it easy. My immune system's shot right now because of Blip… I'll be okay –"

"Please? Will you at least let her check you over?" His hands creep under my chin, his fingers feathering my jaw to cup it. I lean back and look up at him, finding his eyes full of pleading. "For _me_?"

I swallow and take a second before puckering my lips for a kiss, giving in to him. I don't care that I'm sick, that my nose is red and blocked, or that my throat is scratchy. I don't even care that Christian can easily catch my illness. No amount of sickness can stop me from wanting his lips on mine. Luckily, he agrees.

I melt into his kiss as he offers his mouth to me, sealing it over mine and taking me gently, and with care. I hum my appreciation, placing my hands on his chest. I love how soft and warm his lips are - how perfectly they mould to mine. His tongue peeks out, lightly rolling along my lower lip to coax me to open my mouth, to allow him to dip inside. He murmurs something against me before finding my tongue and stroking lengthy, succulent licks against it.

It's slow, beautiful and magical. No aggression or speed, just care and attention. _Just love_.

"There's something you should see." He whispers, leaving my lips. I try to claw my hands into his pecs, trying to keep him with me, but he shakes his head. "Ana, you need to see this."

I take a deep breath and place my hands in his. He helps me down from my stool before shifting to stand behind me. I automatically lift my arms from my sides, making room for his to push through. His fingers knit together against our nocturnal monster. He laughs, feeling a harsh kick into my navel.

I shuffle in front of him, using the strength of his chest as my guide to wherever he wants to take me. We move through the hallway and down to the darkened window, toward my office on the left.

I first thought we were heading into his, the door to his directly opposite mine, but he veered me to stand at the barrier of my room. He released me to open it, and to switch on the lights when we stepped inside. I moved in front and came to a stop in the middle of the room, twisting on my heel to face him. His tired, grey eyes search into my sickly blues while his palms skim up and down my sleeves.

"Look around… What do you see?"

"My office…" I retort sarcastically, my eyes still on his. He blinks slowly.

"No. What do you see, Ana? Look, hard. What's different?"

My brows furrow together as I glance all around me, to my familiar and private ambiance.

My office is the complete opposite of his. Christian's home office is a mirror of his GEH clinical and sterile bureau. His is extravagant, all furniture dark and the walls white and bare. His monochrome colour scheme takes precedence, whereas warmth and homeliness are dominant in mine. While his is the larger room, mine encompasses the library, also. The lengths of two walls are supported by floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, separated only by the door and switches. The back wall is highlighted by the extended, bay window and overlooks the meadow outside, and the other is covered in light coloured wooden panels.

The furniture in here is cushioned and comfortable: my desk chair padded white leather, matching my white desk; two patterned armchairs on the other side of my desk, complete with small, feathered pillows in a brilliant Violet; and two, soft pink chaise loungers makes up the sitting area near the books. I chose them with Mia, falling in love with the velvet softness and the silver, scatter cushions that accompany them. I loved them from the second I saw them, an enchanting reminder of our wedding day.

I look around and study everything twice, searching for anything that might be out of place or alien to me, but I find nothing.

I shake my head and come back to his knowing smile. "I don't know what I'm supposed to be looking for."

"Come."

With speed he walks me over to the far corner of the room, coming to halt directly in front of the long wall of wood.

"Oh yeah –" I drawled, mock slapping the side of my head. "It's a wall… Jeez, I'd never have noticed it."

Christian grunts, lowering his mouth to my ear. "Careful, Mrs Grey, or I'll take you over my knee." He slides away and moves to the third panel in front of us. "Here –"

He looks back at me for a second, setting his hands in the middle of the panel. He smiles before slamming his weight into it, that piece of wall crunching and popping away – releasing toward us. My jaw falls open as he steps back slightly, pulling the panel away from the wall and revealing the steel handle on the rear of it, and the metal door hiding inconspicuously.

"Christian?"

"It's a safe room." He tells me, reaching for the small keypad on the door.

"A safe room?"

"Most people call them panic rooms. I hate that term and refuse to use it. It's less threatening to call them a safe room."

"Oh…"

"Have you seen one before?"

I shake my head. "Only in the movie with Jodie Foster."

"Well, it's a little different to the movie."

He quickly punches in a code, the door beeping in retaliation and allowing him to slip inside. I hesitate for a second and he stretches his hand back to me, beckoning me to join him. With hesitance I do, finding it a surprisingly large, hidden room with plush, carpeted floors and cream walls. I turn on the spot and try to take it all in. There are various niche artworks hung spaciously on the first wall, a soft,Auburn couch sitting under them, beside next a series of deep, mahogany cabinets.

"I had one installed in Escala a few years ago. There was some dispute between GEH and a subsidiary company, threats were made… When I bought this place I had Elliot install a few here, too."

I nod, finding a long, chestnut desk sitting under a wall covered in flat screens – each relaying CCTV footage of the house, no room untouched by its watchful glare... Not even the bathrooms!

"There's more than one?" I question.

"Three, actually." He nods. "There's a duplicate of this in my office. Everything's the same in there, and it's in the same place, too. The third panel from the door… The couch pulls out into a bed and there are pillows and blankets in the cabinets. There's surveillance for the whole house, a stock of food, drinks and various supplies… There's a side room through that door –" He points to the narrow door opposite the couch, "There's a toilet and basin in there… There's also a private phone in each room. It's a secure line to the police department."

"What if the power goes out? We'd be trapped –"

"They run off backup generators." Christian comforts me, hauling me into his chest. "I had them customised and decorated especially for you. I thought it'd make them more… _durable_, if we ever need to use it."

"It's nice in here." I confess. "So… there's one in your office and in mine, where's the third?"

"Upstairs."

Smiling, Christian leads me out of the safe room and back into my office. As soon as we were clear of the door he closed it, automatically locking it in place before concealing it with the panel once again. Once the wood was clicked into place it was forgotten, as if it was never there.

"The doors are bullet and tamper-proof. They lock as soon as they're shut and you can only get inside if you know the code." He confirms, taking me by the hand and escorting me into the hall.

We move at a leisurely pace, the way highlighted by artificial light counteracting the obscurity outside. We ascend the stairs and walk down the hallway, Christian heading straight for the nursery.

"The baby's room?" I squeak as we head inside, into the meadow- English countryside inspired room.

"Where else would we put it?" He utters, quietly closing the door behind us. "If something happens we'll need to grab him and get to safety as soon as possible. This way we could have him and be hidden in a matter of minutes…"

"You've thought of everything, haven't you?" I smile as he flashes a pleased grin to me. He takes me into the closet, stepping right through to the back.

Blip's closet is huge, much more than any baby could possibly need. The parallel walls are full of rails and drawers, currently adorning white and cream clothes. We haven't been out shopping for clothes yet, the only ones we have being gifts from friends and family. The back wall is home to a five-drawer dresser and a large, almost ceiling high cabinet built into the wall. We stop in front of it.

"In the cabinet?" I ask. He nods and opens the doors, revealing an empty rail. He tells me that we'll fill it at some point, that we'll just have to push the clothes to one side in order to gain access to the room. "It backs onto our closet, doesn't it?"

"Didn't you ever wonder why there seems to be a chunk of our closet missing?"

_I didn't._ It never even crossed my mind.

Christian mimics what he did downstairs, pressing into the back of the cabinet until it pops backwards and displays the same, protective door.

"Ana, you should do this." He tells me, stepping out of the way. "All you have to do is punch in the code and press the green button."

"I don't know the code." I remind him, shrugging my shoulders.

I_ don't even know the code for the front gates!_

Sometimes I wonder why I'm left out of these presumably vital pieces of information, but then I figure I'm never on my own – why would I need to know it, if there's always someone else to do it for me?

He sounds out each number slowly, waiting for me to press the appropriate button before moving onto the next in the sequence.

"Six… Six… Seven… One... Eight… Green button –"

I hit green and it bleeps at me, opening automatically. It takes me a minute to work out the code.

"June 6 and July 18?" I whisper, cocking my head back to him.

He smiles, proudly.

"Ray's and my Mom's birthdays?"

"It's something we can remember easily. I doubt anyone would guess it, either."

I slip through the cabinet and feel very C.S. Lewis, half expecting to see Aslan or Tumnus to run by, but stumble in surprise in finding the room so much bigger than the previous one, and crammed with furniture. Christian doesn't wait a second to clarify it for me, taking me through each piece.

"The desk, phone and screens are the same." He points over to them, disregarding them and turning to the other side of the room. "There's a washroom through there… Again, the couch folds down into a bed, but we'd have to move this in order to accommodate it –"

Christian sets his hands onto the travel crib set up opposite the couch, filled with soft blankets and a few cuddly toys.

He turns away from it and moves over to the cabinets, crouching down in front of them and pointing out the contents of each drawer – working from the bottom up. He opens them up slightly, showing me the insides.

"We have water bottles and canned goods here… There are fully charged electronics in here – laptops, tablets, iPods, that sort of thing… Next we have our clothes. Just simple things like sweats, underwear, jeans. I brought in maternity and normal clothes for you, just in case… The entire middle row has toiletries in it. Personal items that you might need, body washes… And, the rest is baby stuff."

"All of that is baby stuff?" I question, gawping at the remaining drawers. There's gotta be more than twenty of them! _What the hell's in there_?

"There are bottles, formula, a portable steriliser… diapers, wipes, creams and powders… There's a baby bathtub in one of the drawers, along with washes and sponges… We have a ton of blankets, clothes in various ages and toys crammed in there… Baby, you name it and we'll have it in one of these drawers. I think I've covered everything."

"When don't you?!" I exclaim, stunned in disbelief. "Why haven't I seen this before?" I ask, forcing him to look back at me. "Why haven't you shown me this… why didn't I see the one in Escala?!"

"Ana…" Christian pauses, straightening his shoulders. He sighs before telling me. "You used to run away… When we argued you'd run and lock yourself in the bathroom. At least I'd be able to get to you in there, if I needed to... Hell, I could break the damned doors down to get to you. But, in here, if press the red button no one can get in from the outside… I wasn't going to risk it."

I drop my eyes and quiver, ashamed of myself. In a beat I felt him cover me, coiling and taking me in his arms. His chin came to rest on my crown, his hands rubbing my spine. He holds me this way for a moment or two, before gesturing me to roll my head back.

"Baby, we're different now." He affirms, smiling down to me. I unhook my arms from my front and push them around his back, clinging onto him. I surrender myself for another stolen kiss.

My mind fell blank for a while, invested only in him and his touch, but quickly it was over-thrown with protruding thoughts and tokens of yesterday. Christian changed, too.

"Ana, stop worrying about it." He orders me, digging his joined hands into the small of my back. "You have nothing to worry about, okay? You've done nothing wrong and you have nothing to prove."

"B-But, the pol -"

"Stop… They just have some questions they want to ask you, okay… We're going to help them in their investigations. It's going to be fine. We'll be fine."

"Pah, you know what fine stands for, right? Freak –"

"Freaked out, insecure, neurotic and emotional…" He completes me, pushing his lips to my forehead. "I've seen that movie, too… The original's much better, though."

A small laugh escapes me, my stomach settling slightly. After a statutory pause I mumble, "Will you come with me?"

"You don't even need to ask… I'll be there… every step of the way."

"I need you with me. I can't do this on my own…" I start to ramble. "I can't –"

"Shh… You won't have to do this on your own. I'm always going to be here for you. It's my job to be there with you and I can't think of anywhere I'd rather be."

"Christian?" I close my eyes, finding it easier to attempt this without having to look into his interrogating steel greys.

"Yes, baby?"

"I have something I need to tell you… and… I really, _really_ don't want you to be mad at me…" My voice is hesitant and worried, more than just shaky.

"Why would I get mad?"

"Well… um… when I got up I grabbed my iPad… I was flicking through some work stuff and…"

"Okay." He pursues, shrinking his hold of me.

"I did something you might not like."

I feel it build up inside me, growing and spreading from the smallest pit of my abdomen. I find it so hard to grab the words from my throat, having to bite passed the bulge swelling there. Christian strokes his fingers into my spine, urging me to open my eyes. I struggle to get there, shaking my head at him.

"What did you do?" He demands, sternly. I clench my jaw and force myself into my privatised darkness. He shifts. "Ana, I promise I won't get mad at you."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

I open my eyes gingerly, inhaling a sharp and diffident breath.

"You know I gave you Danielle's letter…"

He nods back at me. I told Christian about her letter last night, telling him where I had put it and allowing him to read it for himself. He fetched it and waited to be in bed, with me, before he took it out of the envelope. His face was expressionless when he read it through, the same look taking over his face now.

"I contacted her."

I push it out, fast.

"I said I'd meet with her… _today_."

* * *

I'm starting to get restless now.

The bundles of nerves in my stomach are whirling at a hundred miles an hour, causing my fingers to drum tirelessly on the table top. I'm finding it intolerable to just simply sit there, waiting patiently for our guest to arrive. Ever since we left the police department on Virginia Street, and travelled over to Wallingford, I've fidgeted and found myself constantly looking over my shoulder.

I twist again in my chair, looking up from the menu in front of me, to take a quick glance around the restaurant. I see Sawyer first, sitting opposite us in the table nearest to the window – the perfect place to overlook the activity on the street. He's on his own, his baseball cap pulled right down and over his eyes. He couldn't look more suspicious if he tried. I move to find Taylor, Bailey and Ryan occupying the next table down from us, pretending to be engrossed in conversation while shifting and taking in their surroundings, eyeing the waitresses with distrust. There are a few more waiting outside, covering the streets.

_She chose this meeting point_. I remind myself.

Shortly after waking up this morning I found myself on a mission to find out whatever I could about Mrs Anderson. I raked over file after file until I came across her entry form, deflated when I saw very little on the page. In fact, all that was there was her name, D.O.B and a temporary address. Her educational achievements were few and far between, a brief stint on an Art program and a stack of irrelevant experience. _I wasn't even given a full name!_ It was at that point that I realised why bitch troll needed to sneak her into the system. If Anderson had have applied with this herself, she wouldn't have got a toe through the front door.

I'm drawn back to my table, feeling Christian fidget beside me. His leg is bouncing repetitively, rubbing against mine, and his fingers are mirroring mine perfectly – the taps harmonious with my own. I jerk my head to him and set my hand over his, stilling him in mid-flow.

"I am not happy about this, Ana." He warns me. His lips are hard and pressed together, forming a white line across his face. "Not one iota."

I rub my lips together, tensely. "You said you wouldn't get mad at me."

He makes a grunt sort of noise, his fingers retracting into a fist beneath my palm.

"Y-You said you were okay with being here…"

"You really think I'd allow you to do this yourself?" He huffs, his chest collapsing dramatically. He pulls his hand from under mine, grabbing his water to take a sip. Before pursing his lips to the glass he catches me in the corner of his eye, "I said I was okay being here, not that I was okay with this. There's a difference."

"Difference –" I repeat him, but he interrupts me.

"A. Big. Difference."

_He's pissed off._

His voice is sluggish and firm. My eyes move to his jaw, watching him strain it as he attempts to hold back his objections and fury.

"You should have talked to me about this before you agreed to meet with her. We're supposed to decide these sorts of things together."

"Would you have let me?" I wondered aloud. He didn't answer me and turned his attention to his menu. "Christian. Would you have let me do this?"

_Of course not_…

Christian keeps his mouth firmly shut. Licking my lips I nod my head, accepting his silence as my very loud and very clear answer.

After a period of stillness and shuffling, he huffs miserably and clamps my chin between his thumb and finger, tugging my face toward him. I neglect him at first, but eventually relinquish and lift my eyes to his.

"Ana. I'm not saying I wouldn't let you do this. I just wish you'd have consulted me first. We should've decided this together."

"You mean on your terms?" I arch my eyebrow and cock my head to him, sitting with a 'I'm not taking your bullshit' expression drawn over my face.

"No. I did not say that." He bites back. I try to twist my face away but his fingers grip my chin harder, forcing me to keep still. "I didn't say that, Ana, and you know it… I wouldn't have rushed us into this –"

"No, Christian, you would have taken over and planned every minute detail… You would've picked a location to your preference… one that you could drench in security." I sass him.

"Ana." He sounds my name harshly, glaring straight into me. I find a new leash of arrogance flicker through my body.

"Yes, Christian?"

He stares me out for a few seconds, his cheeks flushing an untypical shade of rosé. He's grinding his teeth together so hard his jaw is struggling to maintain the action. It's like the skin has been pulled too harshly over the chiselled structure, a perpetual fight to keep a lid on his anger. I feel his fingers flex under my chin and I see his whole body become rigid with a wave crashing through him, secured only by the restraint of his jeans, shirt, and leather jacket.

I opened my mouth to say something, but without pause Christian swung in first and silenced me. He tugged my face closer to him, on a collision course with him as he sprung out of his chair and toward me, smacking his lips to mine.

It wasn't a full kiss. He didn't attempt to drag to his tongue over my lips, or try to creep into my mouth. He didn't linger, either. It was a hard, bruising, but equally passionate, kiss. It left my lips tingling with exhilaration when he pulled back and slammed into his chair.

"You fucking infuriate me sometimes." Christian breathes severely.

It takes my lungs a second to recover.

"But… you love me…" I panted, trying to gauge a smile from him. I was unsuccessful, even after placing my hand on his thigh and tracing his tense, stiffened muscles through the smooth denim.

"For all of my sins -" He drones, lowering his eyes to my hand on his leg.

I finger him gently, trying to rouse him. He shifts as I move to his inseam, trailing from his knee up to his crotch. I rib my lip through my teeth as I head closer and closer to my favourite place.

"Not now." Christian stops me, quickly clawing my hand into his. I freeze. "I think she's here."

He gestures behind me, toward the doors. I turn and look out of the windows, looking over the wooden barricade wrapped around the front of the restaurant with potted plants on top. I look up and down the street, several people fluttering by quickly, but no one striking a chord with me. Returning to look inside, I see each member of our security team mentally preparing themselves, their postures, positioning's, and expressions becoming sterner. I can almost see every nerve in their bodies twitching, growing in anticipation.

When I told Christian we'd be meeting Mrs Anderson here, at Julia's, he and Taylor arranged to have half of the diner reserved for us. They made sure that all of the tables surrounding mine and Christian's were free, and had someone stationed nearby – ensuring that we would be covered on every angle. All morning I've heard conversations of surveillance, protection and awareness.

Taylor warned us that the team would be carrying protection, but he left it at that. We didn't need specifics. Christian grimaces every time he hears the word, repulsed at the mere discussion of guns or any sort of weaponry. But, he didn't object to them having it with them today. After recent discoveries, being over cautious is the least of our worries. The continuous 'be careful, Ana' comments have thrown both of us into peril.

Sawyer straightens in his chair opposite, twisting his body toward us more squarely. He positions his chair in a way that would allow him the swiftest exit from it, if the situation demanded so.

Bailey's tugging her jacket into place, trying to hide the fact she's carrying a holster with two revolvers inside.

Ryan's taking a deliberate sip of his Orange juice, looking out of the window haplessly.

Taylor's the only one making any sort of noise, pushing his chair back from the table and muttering something. He glances across to Christian and nods briefly. It was only when I saw him fiddle with his ear while saying something, and saw the others react instantly, that I realised they're all wearing ear pieces.

The wall opposite becomes crowded in shadows, jerking my stomach into nausea and apprehension. I find Ramirez filling the door, pacing up and down the walkway. When he shuffled out of the way, making room for a lone female to slip into the restaurant, I realised she's was here.

My eyes and mouth grew wider as I watched her weaved passed him, scuttling by him meekly. I'm drawn to her hands, one of them white-knuckled as she squeezes the strap of her purse and the other picking up her long, black skirt that's dragging on the floor.

_Her_…

I curl my hand into Christian's, digging my nails in his palm. I squeeze, hard. _Knowingly_. And, the way he reacted told me he knew, too.

Something contorted in my core as she lifted her face from her feet, the place she's been fixated on since she moved along the sidewalk and into the building. She looks over to us through her wide-rimmed sunglasses, her only protection. I couldn't tell which of us she wasn't looking at, but I figured it was me. The way it cut through me was enough evidence of such.

She didn't make any other gesture to us, except for quickly shuffling to our table and taking to the seat opposite me… not Christian. Deliberately.

She drops into the seat and swiftly removes her denim jacket, declaring her nude, pasty and scarred arms to the room. She places her purse on the floor and leans back into the chair. I grind my teeth together and strengthen my grip of Christian's hand. I gripped it so hard, picking up on his vibes.

I can feel the anger burning in his veins, just moments from spilling out.

I can see him flipping the table over and jumping out of his chair. I can see him towering over her, pulling back into a powerful, dominant stance. I can see him turning into monstrous Christian any second now.

She sees it, too. Her chest is heaving slowly, deep and nervous breaths filling her lungs. All of her movements are intentionally slow, making sure that she doesn't trigger the catalyst escalating around her. She turns her head to Taylor and nods gradually to him. He doesn't react to her.

Bile rises in my throat as she slips her sunglasses off her nose, setting them onto the table in front of her, baring her dark, brown eyes to me, and me alone.

"Mrs Grey." She mumbles quietly, placing both her arms on the table, shielding herself. She keeps her eyes on me as she addresses Christian reluctantly. "Mr Grey –"

"Does that fucking whore know you're here?" Christian barks, his voice full of venom.

I see her shaking, immediately dropping her eyes to the table at the sound of his voice this way. One of her hands creeps up to her hair, to play nervously with a lock. She starts twiddling a mass of brunette hair around her finger.

Brunette hair littered with honey blonde highlights.

She shakes her head. "I don't know."

"Cut the fucking bullshit." He stabs.

He tries to break his hand out of mine, but I clench harder. I turn my head to look at him, his fuming eyes focused on my face. I mouth 'please' to him, desperately trying to calm him, knowing he's beyond pissed off at this. I can't blame him, really.

He dismisses me with a heavy breath, slamming his eyes shut with a weighted ire.

"I'm not lying to you… I don't know…" She quickens her words, the sounds faltering and shy. She looks drawn and fatigued. "I told her I left Seattle… After Dani –"

She falls silent, unable to continue. She can't bring herself to say her name. It takes her a moment to regain herself, a few tears building in her eyes. I almost want to stretch across and rub her hand in mine, offering comfort to her, but I can't. I just can't.

"If I find out you're lying to me…" Christian threatens. She flinches. She lifts her fragile eyes to mine.

"I won't lie to you. I promise… Y-You said you wanted to talk to me, to know the truth. That's why I'm here." She stutters, "I won't lie to you."

"I need to know." I confess, struggling to find my own voice. "I need answers… I have so many questions…" I trail off, tearing my eyes from the familiarity of her crude, russet irises. "I've seen you… I've seen you all over Seattle… How didn't I –"

"What?" Christian blasts, finally tugging his fist out of my hold. He pushes it to my elbow and jolts me to look at him. "Are you fucking kidding me? You've seen her and you didn't tell me?"

"Christian…" I struggle away from him.

It takes him a beat to relax, realising what he's doing. He loosens his fingers and rubs my arms softly, but with a hastened speed. I drop my arm and he lets his hand fall to my thigh, his fingers wrapping around it and squeezing apologetically.

"I…"

"No." Christian interrupts her before she had a chance to speak. "You will only speak when you are asked something."

She gulps, cowering opposite me.

"We have questions and you are going to answer them. You will tell us everything we want to know and when we're done you will leave. You will leave Seattle and stay the fuck away from us. Do you understand me?"

She nods.

"Now, let's start with why you're using your married name. Huh, Leila?"


	87. Chapter 87

**Disclaimer: The majority of the characters that are portrayed in this story are those that pertain to the Fifty Shades trilogy by E L James. These characters remain her sole property respectively. The plots and themes explored in this story are those of the author, infamouschelsea. The author is in no way affiliated with James and/or the publishing corporation which produced the original works. Any recognisable brands, places or persons used in the story are the sole property of their respected owners and are not the property of the author. No copyright infringement is intended.**

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**LA** – I love a good ol' twist! Thank you so much. I'm thrilled you liked it! I hope you like this one, too. x

**Gwen** – Yes, she needs to spill the beans. I think Christian is pacing himself a little – but we all know how he gets! 'Panic Room' is a crazy movie. Let's hope nothing like that happens here! Thank you so much. I'm so glad that you're enjoying it still and are looking forward to more! x

**Kathd16** – Cliff-hangers = every writers dream, every readers nightmare! :) Thank you. I'm so glad you're still enjoying it. There's a lot more drama to unfold! Hm, does Ana really deserve a telling off from Christian? :) Thank you! x

**Guest 1** – Thank you, I'm glad you enjoyed the chapter. X

**Guest 2** – Thank you. Christian's all about the details, especially in regards to safety. I'm thrilled you're enjoying it. x

**Jeniferclaudast** – It's great to hear that you had an inkling it was her! :) Thank you. x

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**The truth is out! So, now we know who our mystery guest is, let's hear her side of the story. ****It's great to see that it was an unexpected twist. :)**

**Thank you for reading and reviewing and just simply taking the time to look at this story. Always appreciated. **

**I hope you enjoy this one. **

**Much Love and the Happiest of Readings,**

**Chelsea x**

* * *

Christian's fingers flex and contract around my thigh, gripping hard and sorely. The cotton of my dress does nothing to protect my skin from the abrasiveness of his. I jolt my head down and quickly grab his hand, pulling it between both of mine. He's tense and rigid, forming a tight fist.

"Well?" He spits. He sits up, straightening his torso, to face her more squarely. I glance up at his face and find pure, unrestrained rage boiling behind his eyes. "I have better things to do than sit here. Believe me. So, you better start talking, Leila."

I squeeze his hand in an attempt to calm him but it goes unnoticed, his eyes dedicated to her.

"Christian." I gulped his name quietly, rubbing my fingers over his whitened knuckles. "Baby, you need to calm down."

He snaps his head to me, piercing me with his angered glare. His chest heaves severely, almost dragon-like. "Did you know it was her? Have you known all this time and kept it from me?"

"What?!" I drop his hand immediately, as if he just burned me. I slump back in my chair, stunned. "No, of course I didn't!"

"You've seen her." He bites. His jaw hard and twitching.

I huff, crossing my arms around myself - defending myself. "I didn't know it was her, Christian." I bleat, my voice taking on a newfound level of shriek. "I've only seen her from a distance."

He makes to shake his head at me but I jump in, shooting him down in a flash.

"I saw her on the street a couple of times. Both times I was more than thirty feet from her. I've got good eye sight but you're seriously telling me I would've known who she was from that sort of distance?"

"Then how did you –"

"I recognised the hair." I snap at him. "That's the only thing that made me remember her… I didn't know it was Leila."

It took less than a second for the realisation to slap him across the face, forcing him into a sudden silence. I stared him out and he tore away first, dropping his eyelids to avoid my unbreakable, incensed blues. He opened his mouth slightly, as if he was about to mumble something, but closed it straightaway. Uncurling his fingers he reached across to my thigh, but I jerked away from his touch.

"Do you really think I would have kept this from you?" I ask, seriously. My brows lower around my eyes. "Honestly?"

He didn't move.

"I didn't have to tell you about this –" I flick my hand between Leila and I, "I didn't have to tell you that I had emailed her and asked to meet with her. I could have kept that from you. I could have come here, on my own, and met her… I don't have to tell you anything, Christian. You should remember that."

"Ana –"

"No… You have seriously pissed me off, Christian." I sulk, twisting my head away from him. "I don't understand why you would think I would keep this from you. She looks completely different to the last time I saw her!"

Christian looks over to Leila for a second, studying her face, before coming back to me with a single nod of agreement.

She's completely different to how she was almost six months ago, when she turned up at my office. Her hair was dull and lifeless before. Now, it's shorter and has been cut into a smooth, layered style with flicks of blonde throughout. She's got a full fringe that's sweeping across her eyes, partly shadowing her once empty, bourbon like irises.

Her whole face looks softer, younger, cleaner even. Before, she had bags under her eyes and dark circles, but all of that is gone now. Her clothes look newer and more expensive. Part of me wonders if it's courtesy of that fucking bitch. She just loves to shower people in gifts: giving Christian artwork and champagne, giving Danielle money and jewellery. She has to buy affection and loyalty, which makes something inside me pity her.

"Please…" Leila raises her voice above a whisper, drawing both of us to her. "Please, don't argue over me… I've changed… a lot, actually. I needed to change."

"What?" Christian and I grunt simultaneously.

"I needed a fresh start. I needed to look healthier, different… just better, I guess." She rambles, sucking in air hastily. "I didn't do all of this to hide from you… I changed for me. I just tried to keep my distance from both of you. I didn't want to upset you."

"Then why the fuck did you apply for a job at my company?" Christian snarls, edging forward in his seat.

"_Your_ company, huh?" I snort, shuffling on my behind. I tighten my arms around myself, resting them on my bump while reclining in my chair. I cross my legs, too. I couldn't sit more indignantly if I tried.

"For fucks sake, Ana… Stop being such a pain." He moans, rolling his head tiredly. "You know exactly what I meant, so stop trying to start an argument. You came here to find out what she has to say, so fucking ask her whatever the fuck you want to know so I can leave already."

"Oh, don't let me stop you. If you want to go, just go." I chime back. He finds my eyes and arches one of his eyebrows, shooting over a livid scowl through reddening, misty eyes. "Actually, better yet, I could have Taylor remove your ass from the restaurant, and force you to sit in the car until I'm done."

I know I infuriate him, but he infuriates me. He has a way of crawling under my skin sometimes, niggling away at an untouchable part of me.

He snorts, adding to my annoyance. "He wouldn't do that, and you know it. I guarantee his salary."

"I think you'll find we both do, dear… you know, what with our joint checking account." I fire back a smirk, leaning over to him. "And, I think you'll find Taylor would do as I ask… I'd go as far to say he likes me more than you."

Christian mirrors me and closes the gap between us, bringing his face just inches from mine. He drops his voice to a whisper, to a level only I can hear. "Are you trying to top again, baby?"

"Really?" I drawled, narrowing my eyes. "Time and place, Christian… Talking about topping with your wife and one of your ex subs sitting opposite each other? Nice move." I shake my head at him.

Christian froze when I finished, looking at me intently while I pushed back and settled into my chair. He finally nodded and dropped his head, his shoulders slumping forward too. He sighed uneasily to himself.

Closing my eyes and taking a deep breath, I try to calm the pent up frustration dominating me right now. Everything fell silent for a few moments, filled only by the quiet mutterings from the next table down and Christian taking a few sips from his drink. After a pause I unhinged my arms and set my hand on his. He twisted his head to me immediately and I mouthed an apology, blaming hormones or something. I was lying through my teeth.

It's not my damn hormones. It's this fucked up situation that's getting to me. This fucked up, reoccurring situation that we always find ourselves in, thanks to a bitch named Lincoln.

Eventually I came back to Leila, picking up where Christian left off. I asked her why she's going by her husband's name and not hers.

"He's the reason I came back." She began, rubbing her fingers across her lips. I could see the nerves fleeting through her. I could see that she was feeling uncomfortable under Christian's intense staring, so I told her to focus on me. She smiled and relaxed slightly. "Nick and I are going to try to work things out. Our marriage was okay before I met Geoff… I never wanted to hurt Nick. I just got sucked in. I met Geoff at work and I was drawn to him. I fell for him."

"Nick's your husband?" I ask. Christian answers me but I dismiss him, waiting for Leila to nod in reply. "And, Geoff? He was your boyfriend? The one who… passed away?"

"Y-Yes…" She fumbles, starting to shake a little. "I know now that I never loved Geoff. It was just infatuation… It was a whirlwind and I went along with it. He brought a lot of old feelings back to me… feelings that had made me sick before."

"I'm sorry, what?"

She pulls her eyes down to her hands resting on the table. "I've suffered from d-depression before… When I walked away from Mr Grey… I was sad. I wanted to be with Nick but I still wanted…" She trailed off into a stutter, having to take a second to compose herself. "I was on medication for a while. I hid it from Nick, but he must have known something was wrong… There's only one photograph of me smiling on our wedding day."

"Are you happier now?" I ask her, concerned. She nods with a weedy smile. "I'm happy that you and your husband are making a go of things. How did it happen? Is he here, in Seattle?"

"We used to live in Lynnwood… We recently moved to Montlake." She reaches down to her purse and pulls out her cell phone. I heard Sawyer edging closer to us as she moved, ready to pounce any second. It took her a few seconds to pull up the picture before passing it over to me. "That's us outside our new house… We moved in a few weeks ago. There's a great elementary school nearby."

I smile and look down at her phone. She's hugging a tall, dark haired, grinning man with caramel skin. He stands a foot higher than her, his arms wrapped loving around her shoulders, his cheek resting on the side of her head. They're standing on the driveway of a small, stone walled house, surrounded in trees and removal boxes.

"You look great together." I hand her back her phone. "Did he come looking for you?"

"Oh, no… It was Susi who called him. She told him what happened to me… how sick I was." She corrects herself. She starts picking at her nails, absently, like it's something she's always done when talking about something painful. "She told him about Geoff, too… He knew already. He didn't realise I was as sick as I was. He just thought I left because I didn't love him anymore… I got together with Geoff because he reminded me of –"

Leila ran to stop. She didn't need to finish. I could already picture a copper haired doppelgänger running around Seattle.

Christian shifted beside me. I forced myself to speak, even if it was a stumbling mess.

"S-So… W-What happened after that?" I babbled. "After Susi called him… He must've found you, right?"

"Nope –" Leila almost broke out into a giggle thinking of her husband. "Nick and I didn't actually speak to each other until I came back here. He told Susi that he didn't want to upset me, you know, by contacting me. He didn't want to interrupt my treatment. He wanted me to get better, too."

I nod. Christian would be the same, I think. Although, a part of me shakes her head in disagreement, yelling that Christian would be at my side 24/7. No matter what.

"Susi told me he cried to her… when she called. He told her that he loved me and it killed him when I left. He just wanted me to be happy… that's why he let me leave. He loved me enough to let me go, because he thought that's what he wanted."

"I can see where he's coming from." Christian mumbles to himself, hunching over his coffee.

"I wasn't going to come back. Well, not at first. I was going to see out my treatment and my degree, then maybe ask you if I could return." Leila glanced up to Christian, tearing her eyes away immediately after meeting with his. "It was Ms Lincoln who brought me here."

"Bitch-whore-of-a-monkey-fucker."

_Shit. _

I slam my eyes shut as I feel my cheeks reddening, realising that I just said that out loud. I bring both hands up to my cheeks, the warmth already there and exasperating the situation. I open my eyes and find Leila holding back her smile and Christian sniggering, shaking his head.

_Pregnancy brain or what!_ I chastise myself.

But, I can't help how I feel about that woman. Whenever I hear her name I feel a rush of venom pierce through my veins. Blip hates her, too. He kicks madly whenever she's mentioned. It's like he's feeding off my hatred for her, fighting her off from inside my uterus. Even while I'm seething at the thought of her, deep down I'm smiling – knowing that even my baby hates her.

Little Blip has a great judge of character already. He clearly takes after his Mommy on that front, seeing as Daddy's a little slow on the uptake sometimes.

He kicks me in agreement and I rub my hand over the spot where I just felt a jab… once for "yes, Mommy", twice for "of course, Mommy."

"She came to visit me… in Connecticut. She said she wanted to see how I was doing after my breakdown. She knew what I did… what I did to you." Leila stares at me, waiting to see if it's okay to continue. I nod, weakly. "She told me that she had spoken to you, Mr Grey, and that you told her what I did."

She's hesitant to look at Christian. It takes a lot for her to even glance at him for a second, that sense of authority and control still there, and something she still adheres to – refusing to look up at him, doing exactly as he says, cowering at his every word. My mind starts twiddling, wondering if Christian still feels that _bond_ too.

I feel nauseous at the thought of it… of them.

Christian shrugs his shoulders, twisting his head to look at me momentarily. "It was before I cut all ties with her."

_Leila came to see me, in my office, before I knew I was pregnant._ I remind myself.

I remember that day clearly… Leila arriving with Susi; Prescott getting fired because I said it was okay for me to meet with them; Christian arriving and creating havoc and arguments. Angry sex followed that meeting.

_Angry sex between Christian and me! Not Leila!_

"Leila… Tell me what she did… _P-Please?_" I stammer, begging her. She doesn't hesitate.

"She came to me in October - in late October… She just arrived. I was shocked. I mean, why would she just turn up and visit me? She took me to get a coffee and said she was worried about me, that she had been thinking of me since Mr Grey told her I was sick. I couldn't believe her at first, but then I figured she knew why… because she'd felt it too. She said she understood and that she went through something similar, when you two broke up –"

Christian's huffing silenced Leila for a second. I pleaded with her to continue – telling her it's okay.

"We talked about my treatment and school and stuff, and then she told me she'd spoken to Susi and Nick… I was stunned. I didn't think she knew about Nick but she did. She said she wanted to help me get my life back together. She said Nick wanted me back and that she would help us reconcile… She was so kind to me."

"God, why does everyone fall for it? This is Elena Lincoln. She doesn't have a kind bone in her decrepit body!" I snapped, pushing my hands up through my hair. "Why does everyone fall for it? Why am I the only one who sees what she is?"

"Ana –" Christian drones. I butt in, beginning to mouth something, but Leila jumped in first.

"I can't speak for anyone else, but I had good reason to believe her."

"Huh?"

"Ms Lincoln was always kind to us… She was always _there._"

Her voice starts to gain momentum, quickly picking up pace and free-flowing. The total opposite of what mine is doing.

"All of us… the exes… We all remember her being around. We were all introduced to her as Mr Grey's friend. We would go to her salons for beauty treatments and we never had to pay a dollar, even when Mr Grey gave us money for the trips… She'd practically roll out the red carpet for us! God, she'd even come to the apartment… to Mr Grey's Escala apartment." She corrects herself. "She knew that part of the arrangement was that we would be there on weekends, but she'd always turn up. She would pretend that something was wrong at one of her salons, that someone was trying to blackmail her or something… She'd get her subs to write letters asking for money… She'd do anything to get attention –"

I think back to the night she arrived at our apartment, with a blackmail note in hand. Did she forge that, too?

"We all knew why she was doing it because a part of us would do it too… We could understand why because we were all wrapped up in you, Mr Grey. All of us, at some point or another, wanted to be the sole recipient of your attention… I guess I got a little _too_ wrapped up in you."

"I made it perfectly clear from the beginning that it would never develop into anything. I made it clear I didn't want a relationship." Christian defends himself adamantly. "I didn't give you any mixed signals. You knew where I stood."

"I know." She answers in a hushed tone. "I fell for you… that was my fault, not yours -"

"You shouldn't apologise for falling in love with someone." I tell her, honestly. "Don't ever feel sorry for being human. It's not something you can control… I guess it hits you the hardest when you're not looking for it."

Leila smiles at me. "I trusted her because I knew she felt it. She knew what it's like to love someone so strongly and then lose them –"

"You were the one who left." Christian corrects her. She doesn't look up at him.

"I left because Nick offered me something I wanted from you. I was lonely and I wanted to feel loved. I knew I was never going to get that from you, so I took Nick up on his offer. I just didn't realise how much I would come to love him… If I'm being honest, deep down, I probably left you because I wanted you to come after me. I wanted you to fight for me."

She takes a hurried breath, a rogue tear drifting down her otherwise content face. She laughs at herself as she wipes it away.

"I know it's ridiculous! I know it sounds so pathetic, really… I get that now. I'm better now. I'm happy… When Ms Lincoln told me Nick wanted me back and that she would help us, I was so happy. I have good days and bad days, but I have more good than bad now. At first, I didn't know whether I should come back or not… My parents were telling me I should. They love Nick and hated me for what I did to him… But, I had school to think about. I had only just started my program and I was enjoying it… And, my doctors were in Connecticut."

"I told you not to come back." Christian says slowly, in a discreet voice.

Leila takes a sip from her water, nervously. I can see the water shaking in her glass as she holds it up to her mouth. I feel sorry for her.

"I know… But, she said she would take care of everything. She said I wouldn't have to worry about a thing… She would cover the costs of leaving the art program I was on and she would foot the bill for me to settle onto a different one here, in Seattle… She said she would help me find a new doctor and that she would talk to you, make it okay for me to be back here again… You two were always so close. How couldn't I believe her?"

I can't fault her for that. She didn't know that Christian had abandoned bitch troll. She didn't know any better.

"She said she would only help me on one condition. That if I come back I had to use Nick's surname. I thought that was what he had said, that he wanted me to do that, but it wasn't."

"It was so I wouldn't know you were here." Christian grunts. He shakes his head harshly, cursing Elena under his breath. "She paid off your school fees so I wouldn't find out straightaway. They were supposed to call me if you stopped attending classes."

"How could she have paid it off if the bills were in your name? Surely the school would have contacted you if all of a sudden someone else is paying of the outstanding tuition?" I question, completely confused.

He nods at me, telling me that's how it should have worked out – that he doesn't know how she got away with it. I caught Leila in the corner of my eye, raising her hand.

"She gave me a cheque to give to the school. She said it was from you. It had your signature on it… It was to pay off the outstanding balance and cover the next year, too, for inconvenience."

"It was my signature?" He grunts. She nods back at him. "How much money was on the cheque?"

"$25,000."

"That fucking whore!"

He slams back in his chair, almost knocking it off balance. Both his hands find their way into his hair, pushing it out of his face and tugging it away from his scalp in rage.

"That fucking whore came to me asking for money. She needed to take a restraining order out, against Linc… She asked for $25,000!" Christian fumes, clenching his fists in his hair. "I didn't put her name on the cheque."

"Why not?!"

"Because this is Elena fucking Lincoln, that's why!" He growls, slamming both hands down on the table. Everything shakes and bounces on it, drinks spilling over. "I'll fucking kill the bitch."

"Christian, don't you dare go after her." I warn him, grabbing him by the forearm. "I don't want you anywhere near her. Let the police deal with this."

"You went to the police?" Leila asks us. "I went to them, too… I told them about Danielle, what happened to her. I went to them as soon as I heard that she was –"

She loses the words. I nod my head to save her the pain of having to force it out there.

"We went this morning… to the police department on Virginia Street." I tell her.

"Nick took me there last night… I couldn't keep it in any longer. I had to tell them what I knew."

I didn't pursue her any further. I didn't want to upset her, but she continued willingly. For a second I almost wondered if this was like therapy for her – being able to talk it through with someone other than a cop.

"I never saw who did that to her. I was never around when it happened… only after…" A fearful sob breaks out of her mouth, the tears streaking quickly down her cheeks. I pass over an unused tissue from the pack I have on the table. "Thank you… I wish I knew who did it. I wish I could've stopped it… She called me after it happened. She was on the floor… She couldn't move… S-She wouldn't let me tell anyone. She made me swear… All she would let me do was help her – clean her up. She was my friend…"

Leila blew her nose loudly, her breathes becoming jagged now. I grip my fingers around Christian's arm.

"Danielle showed me what Ms Lincoln was doing. She made me see the game she was playing." She hiccupped through her cry. "Danielle told me that Ms Lincoln used her – made her do things… all because she worked for you… Dani told me that Ms Lincoln made her get me an interview at your office, even though I told her I didn't want it. I didn't want to apply for the job at your office. I didn't want to upset you but she said it was okay. She said that you had forgiven me."

"Why didn't you come to me?" Christian interrogates her. "Why didn't you come to me and ask if it was okay?"

"Because… b-because she said I wasn't allowed to." She fumbles, messing with the sodden tissue in her hands. "She said that you were okay with me being there but you didn't want to talk to me… Ms Lincoln told me I wasn't allowed to approach you unless she was with me."

"Leila, what happened the day you came for the interview?" I move things along. "You left before I had chance to meet with you… Danielle wrote me a letter. She said you ran because you realised Elena was using you."

"I was nervous. I didn't want to be there because something inside me knew already that I would get into trouble for being there. I sent a text to Ms Lincoln telling her I wanted to leave but she said I should at least go to the interview, that it would be fine… I started feeling sick so I went to the restroom. I was in there for almost thirty minutes, trying to calm down… When I came out you were right there, in front of me."

I hunch forward, open-mouthed. "I'm sorry, w-what?"

"You didn't see me… Well, not properly. You needed to use the bathroom, urgently." She explains, tearing her tissue apart. "You were waiting outside the stall and when I came out you ran straight in after me. I apologised to you and you said it was okay. You told me you were pregnant."

_Fuck…_

It smacks me in the middle of my face. I was waiting for the stall to free up. I was jumping up and down needing to pee, cursing Blip yet again for making me incontinent. I just rushed into the stall when she came out. I didn't bother looking up from the floor.

_I'm sorry… No, don't worry about it. Pregnant and full bladder doesn't mix well… Oh, congratulations…_

"You left because I told you I was pregnant?"

"No… I felt even worse for being there when I knew, but I left after I was shown into your office." She fidgets on her behind and turns to look all around her, as if she was expecting someone to jump out. "I-I sat down and waited for you to come in. I saw my painting in your office and I knew…"

_Painting?_

"I had only just painted it. It was of the coast and a boat at sunset… I initially painted it for our house but it turned out really nice, so I gave it to Ms Lincoln as a thank you present. I had given her a few others before… A couple of collages, flower drawings, and a black and white abstract piece I did when I was living with my parents… I didn't like that one too much. It was too dark for me, even after I added the red to it."

I gasp and snap my head to Christian, squeezing his arm hard. His eyes as wide and stunned as mine.

"My office." He answered, gruffly. Twisting his head back to Leila, he told her "Elena gave me that painting… She sent it to my office, just like the one she sent to Ana."

"I didn't know… I didn't know she had sent you others. I only knew about the boat painting when I saw it." She quickens, guarding herself. "It just clicked when I saw it there. She told me she loved it, that she wanted more paintings because they were so precious to her. They were gifts and she said she would never get rid of them. She lied to me. She was using me… I knew that I wasn't there for me, anymore. It wasn't about me or my career. It was about her needing someone else on the inside. I ran as quickly as I could. I just needed to get out of there. Dani came after me… I had seen her a couple of times before, when I was with Ms Lincoln. I told her everything and she knew… Our friendship formed on the basis of our being used by her."

"Leila, I am so sorry that you were dragged into this." I apologise furiously. I feel myself getting teary for her. She shouldn't have been dragged into this. Danielle shouldn't have been dragged into this.

"She was angry that I left the interview but she didn't take it out on me. S-She took it out on Dani… It hurts. She shouldn't have been punished. It wasn't her fault. I would've taken the punishment." She sobs, her tears wetting the top of her shirt. "Dani told me I needed to leave Seattle and stop answering Ms Lincoln's calls. She told me to get away, take Nick with me if I needed to… She didn't want them to come after me. But, I couldn't leave her there. I was careful… I told Ms Lincoln I had gone back to my parents. She didn't care. She didn't bother looking for me."

"Danielle was attacked by men… Do you have any idea who they were?" I feel a wave of guilt for asking her.

She shook her head and turned her attention to wiping her eyes, smudging her mascara in the process. "I never saw them. I wish I knew… I wish I could tell the police who they are. I want them to suffer like Dani did… There was only one guy who I remember. He was with Ms Lincoln. I'm pretty sure he's her sub."

"R-Really?"

"He's young and… he… he looks like you –" Leila forces herself to look across to Christian. "They all do, apparently… She was joking about it the one day. I asked her why he looked like you and she ignored it. She said that they all look the same, that she must be fucked up in the head or something because she didn't realise… He had only just turned eighteen when I first saw him, but I think they were together before that… His hair is a little darker than yours, and so are his eyes. But, you can't ignore that he looks a little like you."

"What's his name?" Christian queries, "Do you know his name?"

"She called him Rex. I don't know if that's his real name." She shrugs her shoulders, unsure.

"Do the police know about him?"

"Y-Yes, I told them everything I know… Why?"

"Danielle mentioned someone in her letter. She didn't name him. She just called him R." He tells her. "Did you deal with the letters? The one's she sent to Ana?"

"Yes." She admits. "They stopped her from calling anyone. They took all the cables out of the house and stole her cell phone… I gave her mine and told her she could have it, that I would get a new one, but she only ever used it twice. She called my home number, to ask me to visit her when she was… She was so scared of them. She gave me the letters to pass onto you… I hid them down my shirt so they couldn't see what it was. She said they had put cameras in the house… so they could watch her –"

My stomach jolts, twisting and pulling apart in the middle. My heart's writhing along with it. My knuckles are turning translucent from gripping hold of Christian too hard.

"Are you still in contact with Elena?" Christian asks her, bluntly. "Tell me the truth."

"I haven't spoken to her for a few months now. She stopped calling me after I dropped out of the interview. She didn't bother with me. I only called her, to tell her I was leaving."

"Do you know where Elena is?"

"No… I don't think she's been in Seattle for a while… Dani told me she wanted to leave Washington after she got into trouble with the cops. She filed a false allegation against you, saying that you had assaulted her… She made Dani act as her witness. She had Rex beat her up and make out that you had done it."

"I hope to God they find her soon." I mumble. "She needs to be thrown in jail… Preferably before she comes after us…"

"I won't let that happen." Christian sets his hand on my knee. "You read Danielle's letter. They won't come after you… or us, if we have security around. We'll never be without them."

"It's true." Leila joins in. I jerk my eyes to her. She nods at me. "Dani told me the same thing. I overheard some conversations while I was with Ms Lincoln… I didn't understand at first. All she kept saying was how she needed to get around security… that they couldn't get to the jewels if it's still wrapped in barbed wire."

_Am I the jewels?_

"Mrs Grey, she won't come near you when you have security around. She knows that they carry guns. She's not stupid… She was around when Mr Taylor was hired. She's knows how tight your security is."

Leila comforts me and I believe what she's saying. Elena's too fucking smart to ignore the security detail. They wouldn't let anything happen to us.

"I'm praying that they find them soon. For Danielle's sake… For her memory."

She makes to stand from the table, pushing her chair back and grabbing her jacket from behind her. Christian stops her, his voice much louder than it has been.

"Have you enrolled on a program yet?"

"Erm… No, not yet…" She blushes slightly, avoiding him. "There's a place at the community college that I can join when I have the money. She was meant to help me but she didn't… I still need to find a new doctor, too."

"Call my assistant and give her the details of the program. I'll clear it." He tells her, expressionlessly. "You should be able to start as soon as possible."

"I… I can… stay?" She gasps. Her eyes widen dramatically, utterly shocked. My own mimic hers.

"You have just bought a home here." Christian eyes her and she nods, blindly. "And you love him and want to be with him." He stresses the last word. She nods again. "Then you can stay here. But, I have rules."

"Anything… I'll do anything."

"You have to report to Flynn again. I know you stopped talking to him when you started seeing Dr Farber, but if you want to stay here you will report to him regularly. Do you understand?"

"Okay." She agrees, her voice pleading and honest.

"The only other thing that I will ask from you is that you stay away from us." His voice is calm but still hurtful. I feel it, too. "I'm happy you're feeling better than you were but I can't forget what you did. I can't forgive you for almost hurting Ana."

"I-I understand."

Christina continues as if she didn't say anything in return. "I appreciate were you sick but I will not excuse what you did, Leila. If you need something for school or any further help then you should report to Flynn or call my assistant. I will make sure it's sorted for you, as long as you keep away from us… Ana is my wife and I will do whatever it takes to protect her. Frankly, I don't know if she's safe if you're around."

I wanted to stop him from being cruel with her but she took it willingly, and handled it well. She agreed and accepted his terms and conditions.

"What I did was unforgivable. I must have scared you both, and I'm sorry for that. I didn't know what I was doing at the time, but I understand that you're still wary of me. I understand. I really do." She lifts her hands to her heart, baring herself and looking Christian in the eye – holding his gaze for the first time. "I love Nick… It just took me a while to realise that. I had to get over you first, Mr Grey."

"Are you?" I butt in, curiously. "Are you over him?"

She answers without hesitation. "Yes… There will always be a piece of my heart that belongs to your husband, Mrs Grey, but I'm not in love with him anymore. I'm in love with my husband and I want to be with him."

I relaxed because I believed her. I could see it in her eyes. I could see it in her smile. She was telling me the truth.

Leila rose from her chair and slipped into her jacket once more, pushing her bag onto her arm and her sunglasses onto the top of her head. I extended a friendly, thankful hand to her, which she accepted gratefully. She offered a hand to Christian, but he refused it. We all understood why.

She turned to me just before she left, her face more serious. She leaned in a little closer and wrapped both of her hands around one of mine.

"Please, listen to what Dani said to you. They will try to get you alone. They will try everything they can to get you on your own… They thought you would come running when they broke into your apartment."

"What?!"

Christian jumped to my side and snapped my hands out of Leila's. She flinched a little. I did, too.

"Dani told me… She overheard them talking. They were talking about how they'd managed to get into the apartment and set it on fire." She rushes it out. "They hung around after, waiting to see if you would turn up. They left when they knew you weren't coming."

"How did they get in, Leila?" He bursts, frantically.

"They had a key… They stole your keys, Mrs Grey." She quivers, shifting her balance and rocking side to side. "I don't know how they got them but they took them and made a copy. They made sure you had them back before you knew they were gone… They guessed the code, too. Dani said Ms Lincoln knew you would use your mother's birthday as the code."

"Your mom's?" I breathed, looking up at him beside me. He muttered 'Grace' back to me.

"Did you tell you police?"

"Yes… I've already told you. I told them everything when I went there last night. I haven't lied. I promise."

"I believe you." I whisper. "I believe you, Leila."

"Can I ask something of you? Of both of you?" She stutters, sheepishly. "Can I ask that you don't tell anyone I was here? I don't want them to come after me…"

"We won't say anything." I promise her. I take her hands in mine, the same way she did with me a minute ago. "If they come after you, call us. Call someone… Don't keep it to yourself."

"Thank you." Leila nods at me, gulping hard. "I know you hate me after everything, but I'm really happy for you." She turned her head to Christian, "I'm happy that you have someone, Mr Grey… You, more than anyone, deserved to find your true love."

I could feel Christian's body tighten in response, but he didn't reply to her. I didn't see him nod his head, either. But, I knew what he was thinking. I could hear it in my mind.

Leila pulled her sunglasses over her eyes again and adjusted her hair to frame them. She took a quick glance down her body, to make sure her skirt was down and in place, before she made her way over to the door. She pulled it open and looked back to me once last time before she stepped out. She smiled.

"Congratulations on the baby."

She disappeared through the door and merged past Ramirez. He watched her as she walked out, onto the street. I stared after her, watching as she looked all around herself anxiously, eventually turning right and heading the same way she had come.

She was gone within seconds. Another fleeting shadow of the past.

"Come on." I felt Christian's hand settle on my elbows. "We need to leave."

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**I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Little note: I'm on a mini-vacation until June 21. The next chapter should be up during the weekend of 22/23. **

**If you're interested in more of my FanFiction writing I recently uploaded a one-shot story: "Together: Forever, This Time." It's a Fifty Shades piece, too. It is a sad piece and you may need a tissue handy (a few people did). I hope you enjoy it.**

**Much Love and I'll be back soon! Party Time! :)**

**x**


	88. Chapter 88

**Disclaimer: The majority of the characters that are portrayed in this story are those that pertain to the Fifty Shades trilogy by E L James. These characters remain her sole property respectively. The plots and themes explored in this story are those of the author, infamouschelsea. The author is in no way affiliated with James and/or the publishing corporation which produced the original works. Any recognisable brands, places or persons used in the story are the sole property of their respected owners and are not the property of the author. No copyright infringement is intended.**

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**LA** – Elena is certainly crazy. Hm, you might be right about Leila. Things never go smoothly if you're connected to the Greys. Sorry you almost missed them! :) P.S. Glad you enjoyed the one-shot! Much Love and Thanks. x

**Amie-Jane** – Thank you so much. It's great to hear that. I hope you continue to feel that way! Much Love. x

**Kathd16** – Thank you. Thrilled that you enjoyed it and it cleared things up for you. Ana and Christian will always bicker, mainly because Ana starts it. But, just because you're mad at someone doesn't mean you don't love them. :) Leila's not a problem for us anymore. Much Love. x

**MX** – Yes, Leila was definitely a blast from the past! I'm thrilled your view on her has changed. That was my aim! Leila's not a problem for them or us. :) Hm, you might be onto something in regards to Ana's keys. I loved that line, too! It's something I would say. Thank you! Much Love! x

**Gwen** – I'm glad you started feeling sorry for Leila! That's great! Yes, Ana needs to have her own voice or she doesn't stand a chance. Thank you! Thrilled you enjoyed it. x

**Ellie** – Thank you so much! I'm absolutely thrilled you think that. Even better that it was a mini-treat for you! Congrats on finishing school. Always a great feeling. :) x

* * *

**Hey Everyone,**

**I'm so glad to see that many of you have had such a great reaction to Leila's story. My aim was for you to feel some compassion for her. In my eyes, she was a neglected character in the books who was made into a villain due to mental illness. She deserves her happy ever after just as much as anyone else. Or, at least in my opinion she does. It's fantastic to see many of you have had a change of heart towards her.**

**Apologies to anyone who speaks French and finds that I've made a mistake in this one! I'm a little rusty to say the least!**

**For those who haven't already seen, I have a one-shot story "Together: Forever, This Time." It is a sad one, so make sure you've got tissues on standby just in case. [Shameless plugging over, I promise.]**

**Much Love,**

**Chelsea x**

* * *

I stood as patiently as I could at Christian's side while he tried to settle the bill, the teenage waitress taking her sweet ass time.

For a while 'Jaime' just stood there, staring at us with that "I don't want to be here, can you just leave now" sort of expression etched over her face. She paused often and had to start over at least twice, cursing profusely when she fucked up. I rolled my eyes, praying to God that Christian's grunts are the worst things that will come out of his mouth. I know that his blood pressure must be through the roof right about now, mine probably following close behind. I began to debate whether 'Jaime' was doing it on purpose, using his annoyance as an incentive to try to piss him off even more. Maybe it was a challenge to her?

When she looked up at me, her black eyes lifeless and dull, I shook my head disapprovingly. She turned a whiter shade of pale.

_Yup, she definitely doesn't know who he is._ My subconscious rattles from the far table, picking at her calorie-free club sandwich. _Come on, you don't anger the beast. And, you certainly don't try to fuck with him… Present party excluded, of course_.

"Please come again," The waitress droned, handing over Christian's card and receipt. He snatched it from her with a snarl.

"Not a chance in hell."

Christian spun on his heel and took my hand in his, shoving his things back into his pocket before leading me from the building. I watched as Taylor clambered in front of us, his face blank and serious. I looked past him and out of the front windows, finding that we were the only ones left in the restaurant – the others now lining the sidewalk.

"Mr Grey –" He nodded, preparing to open the door for us. He managed to get his fingers around the handle before he was halted in his tracks, Christian making a small, objecting noise.

Taylor and I both eyed him as he froze to the spot, as if he'd just hit an invisible wall or someone had superglued his shoes to the ground. I walked forward a little, cocking my head to the side to get a better look of his face.

Pursing his lips into the perfect pout, Christian was completely lost in thought. His eyelids were narrow around his eyes, closing in on the grey and white. His pupils were tiny pinpoints, piercing into mine. But, he wasn't looking at me. He was looking _through_ me. I opened my mouth to ask him what was wrong – what was on his mind – but he just shook his head at me, stopping me before I started. He paused for a long second before charging forward and meeting with Taylor, leaning in close to him to whisper something.

I stayed where I was, able to see only Taylor's face as Christian spoke to him. His expression was much the same as it always is – hard and concrete – but, it still unnerved me a little. He nodded a few times in response and when Christian was finished, he replied in muted voice. It was way too quiet for me to hear what was being discussed.

"Christian –" I mumbled, attracting his attention once again. He turned sharply to face me, forcing a smile.

"Let's go." He broke in, powering to my side in an instant and pushing an arm around my back, gently propelling me forward. "Are you cold?"

"Erm, no, I'm okay." I fumble. How can I possibly be cold? I'm wearing like a million layers over here!

His hand pressed flat against my back as he walked me to the door, Taylor opening it just in time for me not to break stride. I smiled at him by way of saying thank you but the gesture wasn't reciprocated.

It's that bad?

We pounded the sidewalk and met the idling SUV in less than ten steps.

"Sir… Ma'am –"

Sawyer greeted us, pushing himself to the rear passenger door. He flung it open for me, holding it like he usually does. For some reason Christian took exception to this, growling a deep noise from within in chest until Sawyer let go of the door so he could take charge. Sawyer backed away sheepishly, eyeing me with confusion.

Christian filled the door, shielding me from view until I settled into my seat. I watched his face while he flicked my seatbelt around my body, his eyes refusing to meet with mine. Before I had the chance to say a word he shut the door and pushed to the other side of the car, quickly jumping in and busying himself with his seatbelt.

"Go." He ordered the front seats as soon as the buckle clicked at his hip.

The car sprung to life under Taylor's fierce control, Bailey sat next to him. I don't need to look around me to know that Sawyer and Ramirez are riding behind us in the other SUV, or that Reynolds and Wilson have possession of a smaller Audi that Christian owns and are slipping into traffic in front of us. It's a grey car, and one I've rarely seen – only ever in the Escala basement. The majority of the cars we own are at home - our house on the Sound and are mainly the ones we use regularly - but there are still a few over at Escala, just in case we need them.

We drove away from the sidewalk and formed a neat line with the grey car in front and the matching SUV behind, firing through the suburbs of Wallingford towards the nearest freeway and home.

I coughed a few times, wincing in pain from the sharp stabs it caused in my back and the fire taking over my throat. I was thirsty and desperately wanted a large to-go cup full of ice, but I didn't want the fuss. I didn't want Christian fussing over me. It was bad enough that every time I moved or made a slight noise his hand made its way to my upper back, rubbing in concentric circles to soothe me.

"Unhook your seatbelt." He split the air sharply and I snapped my head to him, blowing my nose into the handkerchief Taylor had subtly passed back to me. Christian repeated, patting the seat between us. "Come sit by me."

I didn't move at first, instead waiting for us to reach the next red light before I dared undo my seatbelt. I think Christian respected my choice, but he didn't say anything. As soon as I felt the car come to a stop I unbuckled my belt and shuffled across the bench, grunting and huffing until I set myself next to him. It's hard to move around swiftly with an inflated beach ball under your shirt, worse when your lungs are currently full of bricks and sludge.

I struggled with my new belt for a few moments, unable to work it around my hips in time for the light change. I cursed and flung my arms above my head.

"Just do it –" I groaned, slamming my head into the back cushions. "I can't do it… I'm not cut out for this shit anymore."

Christian obliged immediately and made light work of stretching the restraint around my enormous self, fixing me to my seat.

"Don't beat yourself up, okay?" He ordered me, casting his arm around my shoulders and drawing me into his side. "You'll be back to normal soon."

"I better… or, you can carry the next kid."

He snorted at me, beckoning me to nuzzle my head into the space between his arm and ribs. I did, and I kicked off my shoes too, hauling my legs up and over his thigh to hang them between the gap of his legs.

"It's been a strange, tiring day…" I sighed. Spending hours with detectives at the police department this morning, dissecting every encounter I've ever had with Elena, topped with this Leila bombshell, has taken it out on me. Big time.

"You haven't slept properly." He answered gruffly, "I'll make sure you can get some sleep later."

"How? Are you going to drug me or something?"

"Of course not, don't be silly." He retorted, his voice on the defensive. "I meant that I'll ensure that there is time for you to take a nap, or go to bed early. You need your sleep, Ana. I said I would look after you and I will, and that involves making sure you rest."

"Pregnancy insomnia is normal, you know." I backtrack, remembering a passage from the baby book next to our bed. It's one he's been reading for the past three days or so.

"I know it is but you're sick, not an insomniac."

I fell silent for a while, tracing my finger around his navel through his t-shirt. When I plucked the courage to ask him something, it came out as a hushed, croaky whisper.

"Are you m-mad at me?"

"What?"

"Are you mad at me, for what I said to you in the restaurant? I wasn't trying to be –"

"No, I'm not mad at you." He interrupted, bringing his other arm around me to hug me close to him. "I'm not mad at you. It's just… All of this, it's just… Fuck. It's just a lot to take in. I can't get my head around it all."

"I know I can be a bitch sometimes –" I admit, pushing my head further into him. His fingers soon made their way under my jaw, lifting my face to his.

"Don't you ever call yourself that again, understand?" He frowned at me, condemningly. His fingers clenched my chin, holding me there. "You're placing yourself in the same category as that fucking, lying whore. You are nothing like her… _nothing_."

"I'm making life difficult for you –"

He jumped in again, "why do you think that?"

"Because I piss you off all the time and arrange things behind your back and I –" I ran out of air, gulping down a new breath with a hiccup. Christian cut in then.

"Whoa, slow down." He shushed me, placing a finger over my lips. "Yes, I would've appreciated you talking to me first, but only because this was an incredibly stupid, dangerous thing to do. We didn't know who she was, if she was armed. Ana, can you see how stupid this was? How easily this could have gone wrong?"

I blushed with embarrassment and nodded my head.

"And, yes, you do piss me off. Not all the time, though. But, sometimes I wonder if you do it on purpose." His eyes flickered around my face, and he continued before I could interrupt. "However, I love that you piss me off. I love that you have that control over me… Besides, you wouldn't argue with me if you didn't care - if you didn't love me."

"But I shouldn't take my anger out on you."

"I like being your verbal punch bag." He smiled, "I'd be annoyed if you didn't lash out at me."

"Jeez, you really are a sadist, aren't you?" I drop my voice, making sure Bailey can't hear me. I'm sure Taylor already knows everything. I mean, he lived with Christian for God's sake.

Christian snorted even louder, breaking into a wide and genial grin. It took him a moment before he could reply, his laughter beating out of his chest.

"B-Baby, that'd make me a masochist… not a sadist." He giggled, his shoulders rising even higher as he tried to stop himself from laughing.

I shoved at him and wriggled out of his arms. "Don't laugh at me." I frowned, pouting my lips.

"I'm… I'm…" He struggled, grinning hard. "I'm sorry, baby. I shouldn't laugh… Sorry –"

"It's rude to pick on a pregnant lady." I plummeted my head back into his chest, pressing all of my weight into him to stop him from shuddering.

"I know. It's very cruel of me." He finally stopped chuckling, his voice much calmer and sedated now. His fingers crept into my hair and tugged at the tie to free my chestnut locks and allow them to fall freely down my back. "You just make me smile sometimes. You're so innocent."

"Is that a bad thing?" I wondered aloud.

"Absolutely not… It's a beautiful thing, baby. You're beautiful," he corrected himself. "You're beautiful, even with a red nose, watery eyes and a sore throat."

_Oh, Christian_…

I crumbled into him, hugging his chest hard. God, he sure knows how to cheer a girl up when she's feeling bad. I kissed him through his shirt and rubbed my cheek against him. I felt his lips meet the top of my head.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Ana, when are you going to realise that you don't need my permission to say something to me?" He chastised me, again. "If you want to know something just come straight out with it."

"Why are you still helping Leila?" I blurted it out quickly. "I mean, I think it's great that you are, but I don't get it… You said that you would cut all ties with her if she ever came back. Is this a bribe? Your way of making sure she'll leave us alone?"

"No, it's not. I'm helping her because she needs it. Yes, she has her husband to support her but she was promised something, and she was let down." His chest tightened. "She gave everything up because she thought Elena was going to help her. Leila wouldn't have just thrown that away if she didn't believe it was true. I know her."

"Everyone believes her." I chided, seething without even having to say her name.

"Leila's right, Ana. Elena was always there." He confirmed, massaging my scalp. "I can't begin to tell you how many times she'd show up at Escala when I was busy. When I had someone there with me… Do you remember when she came to the apartment with that blackmail note?" He asked. I nodded shyly. "It was a fake. I knew it was as soon as I saw it. It wasn't the first time she had done that, and evidently it wasn't the last."

"Don't start kicking yourself because she lied to you about the restraining order money." I comforted him, snuggling into his chest. "She's a vindictive, lying slut who needs throwing in front of a bus."

"She does, and I'm sure Leila agrees with us… That's why I'm helping her, no other reason. I promised her that I would help her and she left Connecticut because she thought I was okay with it. She was let down and that infuriates me. I have a big problem with that."

"Why?"

"Because if you say you're going to do something, you should fucking do it, even if it breaks your arms and legs in the process… I go out of my way to help someone if they need it."

I agreed with him. Christian's pretty amazing like that. He might not wear his heart on his sleeve but he does bare his soul for everyone to see. It's one of the many things I love about him.

"Do you believe everything she said?" I asked him.

"Yes."

"Really?"

"I had my doubts at first. She's connected to Elena, even if she hasn't spoken to her in a while, and I've learned the hard way not to trust that fucking whore. But, Leila's got nothing to lose anymore. Elena's already taken everything she had."

"I really hope Leila finds her happiness." I mumble to myself.

"Me too… She doesn't deserve to be punished her whole life because she was sick. That wasn't her fault."

"It wasn't yours, either." I remind him, running my hand across his tense waist. I moved nearer to his tickle spot and his quickly caught my fingers into his, stopping me. He really doesn't like it.

He softened the blow by bringing my hand to his mouth, kissing each of my fingertips and changing conversation.

"I love these hands…" He mused, trickling kisses all over my hand. "There isn't a single thing I would change about you."

I smiled shamelessly. "That's good, you know, seeing as you're stuck with me for the rest of your life."

"And every life after that." He clarified, wrapping my hair around his wrist and tugging my head back. He looked down at me with possession in his eyes. "I'm far too selfish to let you go."

He leaned down and crushed his lips to mine, kissing me fervently. I sighed into his mouth, loving the way he always wraps his fingers along my jaw as his tongue caresses and dances with mine.

Christian only pulled away when he felt the vibrations radiating out of his jeans pocket – the ones I felt, too. I shifted back a little so he could reach into his pocket and pull out his cell.

"Grey." He answered, pinning his phone to his ear. "No, that's no longer an option… It'll be left exactly as it is for now, and we'll revert back to our initial plan of attack… Did you make the call? Good. Tell them I'll call them back when I'm home."

He ended the call and threw his phone into the holder on the door, quickly taking me in his arms again. He was my stern Christian again – similar to how he was earlier. When he spoke, it wasn't aimed at me.

"What was the status the last time you checked?" Christian pressed, provoking Taylor's darkened eyes to come back into the rear view mirror.

"Everything's going to plan, sir." Taylor assured him in his fluid, masculine voice. His drive didn't falter. "Everything will be ready for tonight."

"Good." Christian sighed in relief, slumping into his seat. His breaths grew a little shallower, calmer even.

I looked up and searched his face, rolling my fingers over to his cheek to try to force his eyes to mine but he kept them on his window. His expression was completely unreadable. Still and utterly blank, but an air of confusion, stress and overthinking was present.

"Everything okay?" I queried, lightly tracing his jaw. He didn't react.

"Fine." He bit, sharply.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

Without looking at me he set his hand on the back of my head, urging my head back onto his chest. I obliged and he fell silent, remaining so for the rest of the journey.

* * *

When the car finally arrived home and came to stop I had found a cure for every single problem in my life, and they were all illegal and involved assassination in one form or another. I had planned every detail of the murders, right down to how I would cover it up and make sure I got away with it. I snapped out of my evil thoughts when I felt Christian slip out of the car, but the image of Elena's lifeless body lying at the bottom of a very large cliff was still imprinted on my brain.

_I can dream, right?_

I sighed, grateful that I at least had something to think of in the car. The silence that surrounded us was more than a little unnerving. I should've felt some comfort in the fact that Christian was next to me, and his arms were wrapped around my body, but I didn't. I wasn't comforted because he wasn't _with_ me. His mind was somewhere else.

It was just before five P.M when I stepped through the front door and into our home, my nose wriggling in confusion. The air was markedly absent of Mrs Jones's cooking. I glanced down at my watch, checking the time again. _Huh?_ Gail always prepares dinner for six, which means she starts cooking at four-thirty. _Is she okay?_

Christian came up behind me and grabbed my hand, swiftly leading me down the hallway and into the family room. He knocked on the lights and picked up the TV remote from the coffee table.

"I have a few calls to make, if that's okay?" He asked absently, turning on the big screen to a random channel before settling me onto the couch.

"Oh…" I mouthed, pushing away his fussing hands that were trying to wrap a blanket around me.

"I just thought maybe you'd like to lie down and flick through the television or something, just until I come back."

"I'd rather you join me. I thought we were going to snuggle on the couch and watch a really lame program together." I sniffed through my leaking nose. Christian quickly wiped it with a tissue from the end table. "Thank you."

"Trust me, I'd love nothing more than that, but I have some things I need to sort out." He looked almost sorry about leaving me.

"It's okay. You do what you need to do." I smiled weakly, shuffling along the cushion so I could lie down. I pulled a pillow under my head. "How long will you be?"

"Not long… I just need to call Ros and then I need to call my Dad." He knelt down at my side, pushing his hand through my hair. "I'll be back before you have time to miss me."

"Impossible." I objected. "I miss you even before you leave."

He smiled at me and pressed forward to kiss my forehead before he stood up. He reminded me to call for him if I needed something – telling me that it's just us two in the house, bar a few security on the driveway.

He disappeared out of the room and I was left to my own devices, successfully spending the next ten minutes clicking through the hundred or so channels we have before settling on an episode of Sesame Street, on one of the many kids stations.

You can always count on Elmo when you're sick.

I fell asleep moments later.

* * *

"Frère Jacques, frère Jacques, dormez-vous… dormez-vous –"

I stirred restlessly, wandering back into the world of the conscious with a deep, humming voice easing me to life. I opened my eyes slowly and they darted all around me, noticing that I was still on the couch but facing the back cushions now, Christian at my feet. He'd pulled them into his lap at some point or another, and his hand was resting on my bump as he sang to me. He stopped as soon as he realised I was alive again.

"Did I wake you?" His brows furrowed, apologising in advance.

"N-No… I don't know…" I broke into a yawn. "How long have I been asleep?"

"A couple of hours," He smiled, sweetly. "I didn't want to wake you. You looked so peaceful and I wanted you to get some rest before we had to leave."

"Leave?" I repeated, puzzled. "We're going somewhere?"

He nodded, helping me to sit up. "We're going to my parents' house."

"Oh, are we going for dinner?" I assumed, considering the fact Gail hadn't prepared something for us. Maybe he told her we were going out?

"No."

"Huh?" I shook my head and narrowed my eyes. "I'm not following –"

Christian sighed before confessing all to me. "Ana, we're going to live with my parents' for a little while."

I sat up with a jolt, my eyes firing open and my mouth stuttering in objection. He took both of my hands in his and tried to continue without interruption.

"We're going to move into the Bellevue house until everything is resolved. We'll stay there until the police have found Elena and everyone that she's involved with."

I gulped. "This is really serious, isn't it? It's worse than we thought."

I had feared the worst since Danielle's first note to me – the first time she told me to be careful of Elena. It had scared me, but I held onto the hope that it was just an exaggeration - that everything was fine and nothing was going to happen. The look in Christian's eyes right now is telling me otherwise, amplifying my fears.

"What is it, Christian?" I begged, needing the truth.

He breathed heavily before telling me, "We can't find her… I've had people trying to track her whereabouts since before Christmas, but nobody can locate her. She hasn't been seen in over a month now."

"What?"

"She sold the salon and apparently she's left Seattle. I spoke to an old acquaintance of mine and she said Elena's sold her shares in the clubs around here, too."

"Elena owned clubs?" I squeaked, "Like, nightclubs?

"No, not exactly –" Christian arched his eyebrow at me and my mouth fell open, forming the perfect O.

_BDSM clubs_…

"She's run the scene around here for quite a few years. About a month ago she offered her share to one of the other Dommes. She told them she was leaving Washington."

"I don't believe that."

"Neither do I."

"She's hiding because she knows they'll go looking for her." I tell him, crossing my arms in front of my chest.

"And that's exactly why we need to do the same." He explained calmly. "I'm certain she's still in Seattle, even more so that the people she's working with are lying low, too… If I know Elena she'll be waiting for the perfect time to strike. I need to know you're safe from them."

"And I'll be safe at Grace and Carrick's?"

"We all will."

"All?"

Christian paused, bringing his knee up onto the couch and twisting his body to face me more squarely.

"Carrick and I have been planning this for a while now. Well, pretty much since the Hyde business last year." He began. "We messed up before. We thought it would be safe enough to just have security shadow everyone, make sure you were all safe, but guess what – it didn't work… You and Mia managed to escape and –"

He ran to a dead stop and offered me a look that told me he didn't want to continue on this train of thought. I nodded my head, saving him that unnecessary pain. I don't even like talking about it.

"Well, we're not going to let that happen again. We've learned from our mistakes… It's not that we don't trust you, it's just… I need to know that you're safe, that everyone's safe… The only way we can keep an eye on everyone is to move us all into my parents' house. That way, we're all together."

"What do you mean by 'all of us'?"

"In total they will be us, my parents, Elliot, Kate and Mia… and Ethan, unfortunately." He groaned, his face taking on a gloomy expression.

"Ethan's moving in?"

He reluctantly nodded his head. "It was the only way we could get Mia to agree with it. When we told her no, she went to Kate. They pretty much work as a tag team these days." He grunted. "Believe me, I'm not happy about this."

"Why not? Ethan's really nice, you know."

"Oh yeah, sure… I'm going to love living with a guy who used to, and probably still does, have a major crush on my wife and is now dating my little sister." He retorted, snarling his upper lip. "Yeah, it's going to be fucking great."

"You're going to all macho-big-brother on his ass, aren't you?"

"I already have." He confided, his face unchanging. "I spoke to him when we went to Aspen. I took him to one side and made it perfectly clear that you were off limits. I needed him to know that you're mine –"

"As if the wedding ring wasn't proof enough?" I quipped. He ignored my remark and continued.

"He tried to make out he had no idea what I was talking about, trying to convince me he was interested in Mia… Well, hearing that little nugget switched me from overprotective husband to overprotective brother. I made it clear that if he breaks Mia's heart I'll break his legs."

"Oh my God, Christian… That's a bit much!" I shook my head at him.

"You think that's bad, you wanna hear what Elliot threatened him with!"

"Oh God…"

"Let's just say the conversation involved a graphic description of human castration."

Even I flinched at that! "Wow, I'd hate to be Ethan right about now."

We laughed for a few moments, picturing Ethan's face during that painful discussion. I reminded Christian that Ethan's a good guy. If he's interested in Mia, he'll do whatever it takes to make her happy. I've seen the way he was with his other girlfriends, and he treated all of them like princesses. If anything, I'd be worried about him being left broken-hearted by Mia and her frantic ways.

"So, how long are we going to be staying there?" I pulled us back in, wondering how long it'll be before I'll be back in my own bed at night.

"I'm not sure. That depends on how long it takes them to find these bastards and put them where they belong." He shrugged his shoulders but I could see he was still as concerned as me.

"Does everyone else know, then?"

"Sawyer called my parents earlier and told them we were coming over. When I was in my office I phoned Ros and told her I'm going to be working from home for the foreseeable future and she'll be acting CEO in my absence, then I rang everyone and filled them in on everything… They were pretty understanding, bar Mia and Kate. They had to be awkward and complete and utter pains in the ass."

"It's our job to be difficult. We're girls." I laughed, reaching out for his hands. "I guess we need to start packing then."

"It's already done. Gail packed enough things to last us a couple of days. I'll send for the rest later."

"What's going to happen to the house?"

"Ryan and Reynolds will move in here during the nights, and we'll have a team stationed at Bellevue." Christian explained. "Gail's gone to stay with her sister in Chicago. Taylor didn't want her here."

"That's understandable." I confirmed. I may have only seen them together on a few occasions but I know they both love each other dearly. "You'd be the same with me."

"I'd walk to hell and back to make sure you were safe." He replied coolly and with all sincerity. "Right, we better leave soon. Mom will have a fucking cow if we're any later than we already are."

I giggled, agreeing with him. I know how Grace can get sometimes. I swear she can be worse than Christian when it comes to tardiness!

He rose from the couch first and lent his hands to me, helping me get to my feet. Like he usually does, he kept hold of me for a few seconds more than necessary. His eyes smiled into mine.

Christian dropped our joined hands to my stomach, pushing under my shirt to bring our skin directly to my bump. I jolted at first from the coldness of his hands. He lowered his eyes to our little blip and whispered softly.

"Je vais garder les deux de vous en toute sécurité. Je t'aime plus que tout, ma douce Ana."

I didn't know what he had said to me, but I knew what he meant. The brightness in his eyes flourished as he palmed my stomach, holding both of us for a minute or two.

Eventually we left the family room and shut off the light, heading through the house to the front door.

Christian helped me into my shoes and held me close to him as we walked over to the R8 right in front of us, on the driveway. He was attentive as ever, settling me into the car, ready to whisk me off to our temporary home for God knows how long.

I didn't resist the urge to look back at my big house on the Sound as we drove through the gates at the end of the drive, but I regretted it when I was filled with this peculiar desolation that came with seeing my home empty of life.


	89. Chapter 89

**Disclaimer: The majority of the characters that are portrayed in this story are those that pertain to the Fifty Shades trilogy by E L James. These characters remain her sole property respectively. The plots and themes explored in this story are those of the author, infamouschelsea. The author is in no way affiliated with James and/or the publishing corporation which produced the original works. Any recognisable brands, places or persons used in the story are the sole property of their respected owners and are not the property of the author. No copyright infringement is intended.**

**Gwen** – Thank you. I can't wait for the chaos at the Bellevue house either! Yes, Christian did say that to Ana and Blip. :) x

**MX** – It is sad to see them leave their big house on the Sound, but hopefully it's only for a little while! Yes, it most certainly will be entertaining to say the least. :) I hope you had a great week, too. Much Love. x

**Guest 1** – Yes, this is getting pretty intense. x

**Nelly** – Yes, it was me. Sorry! I felt the same but, in the end, it was something I needed to get down. Thank you for reading it though. I'm glad you enjoyed this chapter. Thanks for reading! Much Love. x

**LA** – Thank you once again! Seeing the drama unfold will be fun for all of us! It's going to get a little intense under that roof with their contrasting personalities. Glad you're still enjoying it. :) x

**Guest 2** – I'm happy to hear that. Thank you. x

**Guest 3** – Thank you. Glad to hear that you were entertained during your flights! I hope you continue to like it. Much Love. x

* * *

**Fun at the Bellevue house?**

**I hope you like this chapter. Fingers always crossed. It's a little longer than I initially thought it would be.**

**Much Love and Happy Readings,**

**Chelsea. x**

* * *

"Elliot!" Kate exclaimed, jerking her head to look at him. Her arms were crossed around her chest, lifting her cleavage for everyone around the table to see. "Seriously, can't you keep that thing under control?"

"Babe, I can't help it!" He threw his hands into the air, "I'm starving. My stomach thinks my throat's been cut."

"How can you be hungry? You had a sandwich as soon as we got here!"

"I like food. Okay?" Elliot pouted his lips at her, bringing his hands back down to rest on his complaining stomach. "Seriously, how much longer is she going to be?"

He rolled his head to the end of the table, pleading with Grace to let him eat. I've sat here watching him for the past twenty minutes or so, moaning about how hungry he is and how he thinks he's going to die if he doesn't get to eat soon. I couldn't help but laugh at him, feeling sorry for him at the same time. I feel like that too, especially when Blip's raging a war inside me.

Elliot sighed again, widening his bright blue eyes, begging for something to eat like a ravenous puppy.

"Mom…" He whined, "Please…"

"Can't you wait for another minute?" She snapped at him. It startled all of us around the table, everyone instinctively sitting back in our chairs. "This is a family dinner and we will eat as one. That includes your sister."

I turned to look at Grace, hesitant to make any sudden movements given the tension around the room. _Are family dinners always going to be like this?_ Grace managed a warm smile when she caught me looking at her, bringing her glass of water to her lips for a moment. I tore my eyes away and back to Elliot. He winked at me.

"Mom, are you really going to let Ana starve?" He proclaimed, leaning forward. "I mean, if Ana goes hungry then the baby does too, right?"

I shook my head, my cheeks suddenly feeling very, very hot. "No, I'm okay… I'm happy to wait until Mia comes downstairs."

Elliot grunted and drew my eyes to him again. He narrowed them at me, "Yeah, but the baby needs to eat. You need to eat –"

"No, really, I'm fine…" I continued, feeling Christian shift next to me. I glanced down and saw him running his hands up and down his thighs. I could tell he was starting to get annoyed with Mia as well. Pushing my hand out, I set my fingers around his and said, "The baby won't go hungry. We can wait a little longer."

"No, Elliot's right." Christian declared, but he refused to look across the table to his brother's smug, grinning face. "Maybe we should start without her. It's already been fifteen minutes. What the hell is she doing up there?"

"I have no idea." Grace sighed, pushing her chair back from the table and throwing her napkin onto her empty plate. "Excuse me for a moment."

We all twisted and watched as she glided out of the dining room, her steps quiet and brisk until she pushed through the door. As soon as she disappeared from view, it was as if everyone around the table was in on some major secret. I glanced at Carrick sitting at my left, shaking his head as he took a sip of his wine. I saw Elliot whispering something into Kate's ear, and Ethan looked positively out of his depth on the other side of the table – opposite Christian and adjacent to Grace's seat.

Before I could even lean into Christian, and ask what was happening, I heard it for myself.

"Mia Aurore Trevelyan Grey!"

_Shit_.

Even with the door closed and the staircase a good ten feet down the hall, Grace's shouts were still impeccably loud and shook the water in my glass. My ears began to ring painfully, as if she had screamed straight into my ear, the sharpness of her tongue biting and clawing itself way through the house. I know everyone around me felt it too.

Carrick dropped his elbows onto the table and plunged his head into his hands, refusing to open to his eyes.

Elliot pulled back into his chair and sat up straighter than I have ever seen him sit. It was like someone had taped him to a surfboard.

Kate straightened too, abruptly so. I could see every muscle in her body twitching as it recalled the last time Grace's voice hit ultrasonic. I was out cold at the time but, from what Christian told me, Grace completely lost it after the Thanksgiving meltdown of 2011. Christian said he had never seen Grace so angry. He said the way she reacted after the Elena bombshell at his birthday party was nothing compared to how she was after the argument over dinner that day. Carrick and Elliot left the house for a few hours after everything blew up, finding solace in a nearby bar until the air settled. Right now, both of them look as if they could jump up from their chairs any second and blast through the double doors, running away from this latest dispute.

And, I wouldn't put it past Christian to join them.

I twist my head to him and he catches me in the corner of his eye. He lifts his brows in a "hold onto your hat" sort of way, and it was quickly followed by more shouting. Louder this time.

"Mia!"

"Okay!" I heard Mia reply, her voice a little quieter at first. "Just give me a minute!"

"No, you will get down here now. No excuses."

"Mom… One minute, okay? Please?!"

"Mia."

Grace sounded her name slowly and with force. It made my stomach turn at the brutality of her tone, so unlike her usual, kind expression. The air thickened as we all held our breaths, waiting for the onslaught to crash back in here.

I could hear loud bangs crashing down the staircase, followed by a babble of hasty, foreign worlds grumbled in a frustrated voice. A few seconds later, Mia came storming into the room, her arms crushing around her chest and her face ten shades of pissed off.

"Injuste." Mia huffed, coming around the table to sit on the other side of Christian. She fell into her chair and crossed her legs. Grace came in behind her, a winning smile stretched over her lips.

"Darling, I think you have forgotten that both your father and I are fluent in French, Spanish and Italian." She spoke pleasantly, striding over to her seat. "Do you really think we would allow you to study a language so you can curse us behind our backs, without us knowing?"

I tried to hold in my laughter, having to inwardly roll my lips and make them disappear altogether just to contain it. I could hear the others struggling to stop themselves from chuckling, too. Gratefully, Grace let us start plating up our dinners from the various pots in the centre of the table.

Christian leapt out of his chair first and quickly gathered a plate for me, piling it high with rack of Lamb, spinach and other green things I wouldn't even guess at what they are, and the creamiest whipped potatoes I have ever seen.

Unashamedly, I started eating before everyone else. No one seemed to bat an eyelid at me, all of them too busy dealing with their own hunger – especially Elliot. He claimed every item after Christian finished with them, swatting away Kate and Ethan when they tried to help themselves. As I ate I watched everyone fill their plates, passing the pots around the table, and making meaningless conversation. Noticeably, the only person who wasn't joining in was Mia. She just sat there, sulking. I wondered for a second if she was unhappy at Grace practically dragging her downstairs and to the table, or at the seating arrangements. I know she would've wanted to sit next to Ethan, but Christian and Elliot conspired to keep them as far away from each other as possible. They've even made sure that Ethan sleeps in the bedroom furthest away from Mia!

For once, I was glad I was an only child.

"So… What the hell were you doing up there?" Elliot chuffed through a mouthful of food, immediately shovelling another load in. "Huh?"

I glanced over to Mia. She didn't look up at him, her attention to devoted to her fork pushing the food around the plate. "I was looking for something."

"Like what?" He pursued, chomping down on a piece of Lamb.

"What does it matter?" She retorted, dropping her fork onto the plate. "I was sorting through some clothes."

"Ha, you mean you were standing in front of your bed, throwing a fit because you couldn't find something to wear."

"Grow up, Elliot." Mia slammed, grabbing her water and downing a gulp.

"Seriously, how long does it take to throw on a shirt and some pants?" He pointed at her with his knife, the tip dripping of gravy. I caught Carrick throwing over a disconcerting glare to his son. Elliot didn't notice.

"Maybe some of us like looking good," She sat up in her chair, flicking her raven hair to one side. "Not everyone wants to walk around in soiled jeans and dirt trodden shirts. Couldn't you have dressed a little more… _appropriately_, for dinner? We have guests."

"Well, excuse me for having a real job." He huffed, setting his hand over his chest and feigning an injury. "Hey, speaking of jobs, when are you going to get one of those?"

_Ouch… low blow, Elliot_. I thought to myself, shrinking in my seat, knowing we are moments away from drama central.

"Wow, is that the best you've got?" Mia teased him. "Oh, and for your information, I have a job."

She took a small sip from her wine glass. I knew she was trying to keep her cool, mainly from the way she kept jolting her head back to Ethan, trying to catch his eye but failing each time. He's busy concentrating on his plate and ignoring the spectacle developing around him.

_Jeez, what an introduction to family life_!

"But, party planning isn't a job, Mia. It's a hobby." Elliot sniggered. I could see Kate rolling her eyes at him, wanting him to shut up just as much as Mia does. "It's a very expensive, pointless hobby."

"Elliot." Christian snapped, placing his knife and fork down. His voice was sharp and concise. Pissed off Christian. "Stop picking on her."

"Oh, come on bro –"

"How many people laughed at you when you told them you wanted to go into construction?" Christian continued, shooting down his brother. "If I remember correctly, the day I came home and said I had dropped out of Harvard and was buying a company, you were less than considerate… What was it you said? 'Can't get anyone else to hire you, so you have to employ yourself'?"

"You said that?" Kate chimed in, slapping Elliot's shoulder. "I can't believe you sometimes."

"But, that was different… I mean, this is... this is Mia we're talking about." Elliot started to fluster, shifting uncomfortably in his chair. "I mean, she's changed her career a million times already… She wanted to be a doctor, a lawyer, a fashion designer, a chef –"

"Yes, and you wanted to be a piece of Lego when you were a child." Carrick added, provoking a bunch of laughs from around the table. Elliot's cheeks fired crimson. "We all change our minds. But, we still support each other in our decisions… Now, stop trying to pick on each other and eat."

There was a statutory silence until Grace recalled something that happened at work today, the conversation flowing pretty smoothly after that. Different topics floated around the table more often than the gravy boat, and everyone socialised semi-happily. I finished first and pushed my plate to one side, flopping backward in my chair and feeling like a stuffed bird at Christmas. Well, until someone mentioned dessert. I suddenly felt very empty and craved a big bowl of ice-cream smothered in chocolate sauce and topped with sprinkles.

While Carrick, Elliot and Ethan cleared the plates and disappeared to the kitchen, Christian set his hand on my bump and instinctively towed my eyes to his. He smiled at me, sweetly.

"Welcome to the mad house." He mouthed, leaning closer to me.

"I like the mad house… never a dull moment."

"Let's hope you continue to like it because this is just the beginning… Give it two days and you'll be gunning for Elliot."

"That bad?"

"Believe me, I actually feel sorry for Kate."

"Hm, I chose the right brother then." I smirked, puckering my lips for a kiss.

"Oh definitely… I'm rich, too." He whispered, breathing his warmness onto my mouth.

"Yeah, but I only want you for your body."

"You can have it… Whenever you want –" He teased and finally granted me with a kiss, merging our lips for just a few seconds. "It's taking a lot of restraint to not drag you upstairs right now and lay you out on my bed."

"Later…" I winked.

* * *

"This is… _different_." I mumble, coming to a stop just inside Christian's bedroom. Our bedroom?

I take in a strange breath and push away from the door, glancing oddly at my surroundings. _Different, definitely different_.

Christian spun out of his chair and moved away from his desk, meeting my side in less than two powerful strides.

"Good different?" He asked, trying to read my face. I nodded.

"Very good different… It's more –"

"Us?" He speculated, pulling me into his chest. His arms wrapped around my back, his hands settling on the top of my behind. "I thought if we're going to be staying here you should at least like our room."

"Will there ever be a time when you haven't planned something?"

He snorted, planting a kiss against my temple. "No… never."

I twisted my head away from him and looked around. On the whole, the room is exactly as it has always been. The bed is still in the same place but the sheets, pillows and throws have been exchanged – replaced with new, brighter shades. Every other time I've been here, the bed sheets were white, grey or black. Today, they're duck-egg, teal and an under layer of cream. The throw at the foot of the bed is silk-like and taupe, matching the series of patterned pillows that have been scattered around the headboard. The two end tables next the bed, once empty and plain, are now covered with picture frames and small, pretty trinkets. Girly things, not Christian things. I spot a few familiar photos on what will become my side of the bed, notably an old photograph of me, Ray and my Mom when were on vacation in Florida. I made a mental note to ask Christian how he got a copy of it, as I haven't seen it in years.

"My Mom helped pick everything out." He declared. I wriggled out of his hold and walked around the room, fingering everything lightly as I moved around – almost scared in case I break something. "She went out with Mia this afternoon to get everything. Do you like it?"

"It's…" I fell silent. I couldn't find a word to explain myself appropriately. So, I just broke into a grin and shook my head in disbelief.

The wall behind the bed has been decorated with a new piece of artwork – a golden spiral piece, covered in tiny flowers and leaves. It partners some of the trinkets on the bedside counters, most of them golden too. _God, they even match the lamps!_ I trace my finger around the nearest lampshade – black with white and golden doves woven into an intricate design.

"If you don't like it we can go and get new things. It's no trouble."

"No… really, I like it. I do."

I turned on my heel to face him, smiling still. It brought a little comfort to his eyes, enough to let his shoulders relax and for him to move back over to his now, much larger desk. His new desk spans that whole corner of the room. On it are a desktop computer – complete with three screens -, his iPad, a printer and fax-machine, and his laptop currently open and surrounded by files and papers. His BlackBerry is on charge, plugged into a nearby outlet. From here, I could see his screensaver – a collage with a photograph of us and Blip's sonogram from last month.

Last month, Christian and I had to go for our "foetal anomaly scan". Never, in my life, have I been more scared than I was for that appointment. I'll love Blip no matter what, but everyone wants to give birth to a healthy baby. I prayed that everything would be okay, and Christian assured me everything would be. He reminded me constantly that Dr Greene hadn't picked up on anything in our earlier scans, and Blip is moving around perfectly now. I believed him until that horrible silence when Dr Greene hovered over one area for more than necessary. I was fixated on her face as she stared at the screen. I was sure I could see something behind her eyes, something that was preparing to break awful news to us. My heart started racing in my chest and I gripped Christian's hand, cracking his knuckles in my deadly claw. But, thankfully, she was just checking Blip's measurements. She apologised when she saw how nervous I was getting, reassuring us that everything was fine and she was just hoping to accurately pinpoint how far into the pregnancy we are. She's convinced Blip is older than we initially thought, telling us he's bigger than she would expect for his gestation. She had to check my notes over and over, finally resolving that our little Blip is not so little after all. We're still only 24 weeks pregnant, but he's on the "heavier side".

I can't begin to express how scary the idea of delivering a baby on the "heavier side" actually is. That's gotta do some serious damage, right?

"A television?" I question, pointing to the big screen mounted on the wall near his desk. "I thought you don't like TV's in the bedroom?"

In fact, I distinctly remember that discussion the day we went furniture shopping with Gia, before we moved into our house. Gia had designs on mounting a television on the wall opposite our bed until Christian slammed her down and threw that idea out of the window. He was adamant that we would never have a TV in the same room where we were going to sleep.

"I don't, but we only have the one room to ourselves while we're staying here. This is the only room that's just for me and you. We still need our alone time, Ana." He told me, "We can't exactly go downstairs and snuggle naked on the couch, can we?"

"No, I don't think Grace would appreciate that!" I laughed. I don't think Christian and I have ever made it through a whole show without things getting a little hot and sweaty. Things seem to progress very quickly between us.

"No, she definitely wouldn't. No one disturbs Dr Grace Trevelyan Grey when it's her day off and there's a marathon of every episode of Glee -" Christian paused, his eyes shooting open. "She wouldn't ever admit to it… Actually, forget I said anything. She'll kill me if she finds out I said something." He pushed both hands into the air, defensively. "I didn't say a word, okay? You know nothing."

I run my fingers over my lips, sealing my mouth shut. Still giggling, I shuffle over to the bed and sit down, testing what looks like a new mattress. I bounce up and down. _Yup, brand new mattress_. The other one was much softer than this. I lean back on my hands, watching as Christian moves back over to his laptop. I squint my eyes to see what was on his screen, getting a migraine from the amount of columns and numbers dotted around and making up his spreadsheet.

"Did it go okay with my Mom?" He asked mindlessly, settling back into his chair and rolling it closer to his desk. "Did she say what's wrong with you?"

"Strangely enough, she said I have a cold." I quip, "After much deducing, it turns out I have a blocked nose, sore throat and a fuzzy head. I just need to drink lots of water and keep on top of my vitamins."

"Did she say that?" He twisted to face me, his eyebrow arched and interrogating.

"I'll go get her if you want? I'm sure she'll be more than happy to tell you herself."

"Did she say that you'll be okay with just vitamins and fluids?" He corrects himself, sighing harshly. "Is there anything else you can take? Any meds?"

"I don't want to take meds. Well, not if I can help it. But, Grace said I'll be fine. I just gotta wait for it to flush out of me." I forced a smile to him, refusing to let it drop until he returned the gesture. I began swinging my legs over the edge of the bed, "Whatcha doin'?"

"Working over some spreadsheets… One of the firms I invested in a few years ago has dropped four per cent. The figures are still high but less than what I want. I'm trying to work out why it lost money in the final quarter of last year. I'm thinking it's time for a re-brand."

"What firm is it?"

"It's an advertising firm that solely deals with social media networks." He shrugged his shoulders, the words rolling straight off his tongue and over my head. "In essence, they're the firm that sell advertisements to places like Facebook and every other piece of shit people use these days. They deal with promotions and act the middle man between the brands and the websites."

"Right… Well, I'm sure you'll work something out." I brushed over it, pretending like I knew exactly what he meant, when really I have no clue at all. I've never used those sites.

He turned his back on me and started fiddling with some of the papers on his desk. He ran his fingers through his hair, frustrated, and started typing away like a mad man. I watched him work for a little while, until the cursing arrived – as soon as I heard the F-bomb I evacuated the room in search of a hairbrush.

Christian made sure that I had everything I could possibly need, except a hairbrush.

I shut the bedroom door behind me, leaving him in peace, and looked up and down the hallway. Eventually, I decided my safest option was to head to Mia's room. She practically has a whole drugstore in her bedroom. She's bound to have a brush!

I made a right and padded down the hall to the first door down from ours. I knocked and waited for a first seconds before I pounded the door louder, this time it flinging open with Mia out of breath on the other side.

"Hey –" She panted, pulling her headphones out of her ears. She leaned into the door, "Have you been there long?"

"No, I just –"

"Good. Mom always says I have it on too loud." I nodded, hearing the bass booming out her iPod. She moved out of the way and gestured for me to come in. "I was just sorting through my drawers in the bathroom."

One thing you can say about Mia's bedroom is that it suits her down to her core. It's like a young girls princess bedroom exaggerated and amplified to a ridiculous extent. Everything is either brilliant white, buttermilk cream or pink. Her bed is easily a king size with a white iron head and footboard, similar to the one Christian and I slept in when we were in England.

I look around her room, trying to pave my way over to her bed so I can sit down, having to work my way passed the clothes dotted around the floor and on every available surface.

"Is everything okay?" Mia asked, trying to scoop up some of the clothes on the floor.

"Yeah, everything's fine. I was just wondering if I could borrow a hairbrush or something. I haven't got one here."

"Oh sure, no problem. What type do you want? I have hundreds." She told me, throwing everything back onto the floor and making her way into the bathroom. She calls back to me, rummaging through various drawers. "I have one for detangling, a fine toothed one for styling, a flat paddle for straightening…"

She ran off an extensive list of combs. I sat there perplexed for a second before mumbling that I'll just take a "normal" one. Apparently, there is no "normal" in Mia's world. She started to lecture me in the art of hairbrushes, busying herself in trying to find the perfect one for me.

"Do you want me to do your hair?" She called out, slamming a drawer shut. "If you're busy that's fine –"

"No, I'd like that… If anything, I'm trying to get busy. Christian's working on something next door. I didn't want to distract him."

"I can totally empathise. He's always been a bit…_ snappy_, when he's irritated."

I smiled, agreeing with her, and made my way to her bed, pushing some of her clothes aside to make room to sit down. As I pushed them away, one item in particular caught my eye: a sheer, lacy thing. The devil on my shoulder pressured me to take a closer look, the angel on the other side blushing when I realised what it was I was touching. I'd found a violet, laced babydoll with a matching pair of panties nearby - the tags still on. It's exactly like the one I gave Christian at Christmas, the only difference being the colour and the fact I looked like a beached whale wearing mine.

Hearing Mia on her way out of the bathroom, I desperately hoped my cheeks weren't tomato coloured. I hurriedly shoved the lingerie under the other clothes on the bed, trying to hide them and pretend like I didn't see them at all. I managed to pick up a towel from nearby, ready to throw it over the pile, but then I saw what that had been cleverly hiding from view: a box of condoms.

_Oh-kay_…

"Yeah, he's always been like that, ever since he was a kid." She mused as she came out of the bathroom, a blue comb in hand. "I remember when he was like, thirteen or something, and Dad gave him a Rubix cube. He didn't move until he solved it… Mom was so mad when she heard him cursing at it!"

"I can imagine." I blushed, hoping she wouldn't realise I had seen anything. Thankfully, she didn't.

"So, do you just want it brushing or –" She waved the comb around, coming around the bed to sit behind me.

"Do whatever you want. I'm a blank canvas… Just, remember who I'm married to." I reminded her.

Christian likes me when I'm dressed up and have makeup on – he's always complimenting me and telling me how sexy I am, how beautiful I look – but, he constantly reminds me that he fell in love with plain Ana Steele. The Ana who stumbled into his office wearing "the most disgusting outfit in the world"… Needless to say, he got a quick elbow to the ribs when he confessed that to me.

"Don't worry… He won't be complaining when I'm finished with you!"

* * *

Mia spent the better part of three hours experimenting on me, finally finishing around 11 P.M.

She curled my hair to the heavens, trying to pin in a variety of different ways but eventually settled on loose waves hanging around my shoulders. I was sceptical when she came out of her bathroom with a bottle of something, the liquid inside the most hideous urine colour I've ever seen, but she raved about its "repairing qualities". It smelled awful but my hair did feel shinier, silkier even.

I came away from her room with a neat mani-pedi combo, healthier hair and flushed cheeks from our girly chat over chocolate coated strawberries and non-alcoholic Champagne. At first, I thought she wasn't drinking because of me – the whole, pregnant lady can't touch the stuff so I can't touch the stuff sort of thing – but then it dawned on me: Mia doesn't really drink. Of course, I've seen her with the occasional glass of Champagne at functions, or she's had a cocktail during lunch, but she's never been drunk around me. Curious, I asked her why.

"I don't like feeling that way." She told me, packing away her tools. "I get why people crave it, it's that euphoria feeling, but I don't like it. I like to know what I'm doing… Besides, I've seen the effects it has on other people. Christian used to come home drunk almost every night when I was nine, ten years old. I didn't like seeing him that way."

I gave a half-hearted, tired smile as I shuffled out of her bedroom and took the short walk to Christian's room. I liked how close their rooms were. It made me think of them as children – Mia, crying in her bedroom after a nightmare, and Christian hearing her tears and going in to comfort her.

I pushed the door to a close behind me, the click of the lock bringing me to Christian's attention. He spun on his chair, smiling at me. I dragged my body over to him and flopped onto his chest, wrapping my arms around his neck lazily.

"Your hair looks beautiful –" He murmured, his fingers working their way through my curled locks. "Spending time with Mia?"

I nodded, too tired to form a word. I pulled back and glanced at his computer screen, wondering if he had accomplished whatever he was hoping to gain.

"I've managed to crunch some numbers and it's looking a little healthier. I'm taking a conference call tomorrow afternoon to work it through with the MD's of the firm." He answered me, keeping a hand on my back as I stood up properly. "I'm just going to reply to a few emails and then I'll call it a night. Did you want to watch some more TV or read?"

I shook my head, breaking into a yawn. "No… Too tired… Bedtime, I think…"

"Oh, okay. Well, I'll take this downstairs then." He made to push out of his chair but I stopped him, placing my hand on his shoulder.

"No, it's fine. Carry on here."

"But, the light –"

"Doesn't bother me -" I shushed him. I bent over and gently pressed my lips to his. "Baby, I'm so tired I'll sleep through anything."

He asked again and I waved my hands in the air as I walked away from him, toward the bed. I shoved all of the pillows over to his side – closest to the door – and crawled under the comforter, quickly bringing it up and around my chin. I had only just curled into a ball when I started giving in to that heavy feeling, slowly drifting into slumber.

It was about one o'clock when I found myself stirring, the bed dipping behind me and the sheets pulling away from my body. I made a small moaning noise, pushing up slightly to check the alarm clock. 1:09 A.M.

"Sorry…" Christian whispered, slipping into the empty space next to me. I fell back down and opened my eyes properly, the room in complete darkness except the flicker of light from the hall, seeping underneath the door. "Go back to sleep, baby."

I lifted my arm up, signalling him to spoon with me.

"Hm, you're so warm…" He hummed, holding me close to him. His hand splayed out over my stomach, creeping under my t-shirt and causing me to jerk backwards.

"Shit… Your hands are cold." I cursed, mumbling through weariness. "Why are you so cold?"

"Because it's about forty degrees outside…" His pushed his hand under my shirt, rubbing my bump until I adjusted to the numbness of his palm. Then, his hand crawled its way to my chest, cupping around my breast and pumping it gently. "I'm sure you can warm me up, baby… my little space heater."

"So, you're just using me then?" I quipped, pushing my butt out and rubbing up against him. "Abusing your rights as my husband, huh?"

"Oh, absolutely –" He breathed into my ear, his tongue lavishing my lobe. "It's the only reason I put that ring on your finger…" He peeled the cup of my bra down, finding my nipple and starting to tease it. "Hard, already? And here I was thinking it was warm under here…"

I started giggling and he hauled me onto my back, tickling his fingers down my sides for a few seconds. He stopped when I broke into a mini-coughing fit, allowing me to catch my breath for a minute or two. When I opened my eyes he was hovering over me, his hands on either side of my head. I nodded at him, telling him I was okay.

I pushed my hands through the gap between us, curling them around his neck and lowered him to my level, bringing us nose to nose.

"I hope you're not too tired, Mrs Grey." He purred, nuzzling his nose with mine. "I want to play with you…"

"Play or _play?_"

"Play…" He smiled, "just vanilla tonight."

"Well, I can always stay awake for some vanilla." I pulled him down a little further, just enough to meet my pouting lips with his. "Wow, you're starting to warm already…" I giggled, feeling him stiffen against my hip.

He smirked and teased himself against me, allowing me to feel him harden. "What can I say? I find my wife extremely sexy. I just can't help myself –"

"Lucky, lucky me…" I kissed him again, tracing my tongue along the seam of his lips and urging him to open for me.

Christian groaned into my kiss, his length swelling and throbbing against me with anticipation. I instinctively lifted my knees up, making room for him to nestle between them. His lips didn't leave mine as he shifted, positioning himself against my hips but hovering tentatively over my stomach.

"I could spend every minute of every day inside you…" He breathed heavily, trailing kisses down my neck. "You're perfect… so fucking perfect…"

I arched my spine when he suckled that spot at the base of my neck, probing my skin avidly. His lips pulled at my skin, playing on the noises my throat was generating. In the pause of our breaths I heard something outside, in the hallway.

Christian arched backwards, both our faces snapping toward the door. I held my breath, trying to hear a little better. At first, I thought someone was tiptoeing out in the hall, listening to us. It sounded like floorboards creaking under repetitive strain. But, after a few seconds, I soon recognised _that_ noise.

Bed springs.

My eyes widened immediately, my mouth falling open too as I lay there, hearing the rocking and bouncing of the bed in the next room down from ours.

_Oh my God_…

I could feel the concern radiating from Christian's body, the bed starting to shake a little under the pressure he's plummeting into the mattress on either side of my head.

The squeaks started to quicken, followed by an out roar of grunting, groans and a hushed wail.

"Oh God… there… y-yes… please, oh yes… oh –"

I slammed my eyes shut and rolled my head back to Christian, resting my forehead against his arm. It was shuddering. I could feel his eyes boring a hole into my face when the realisation hit him, too.

I opened my eyes slowly, catching a glimpse of his face. His expression was unfathomable. Indescribable.

"Yes… Yes… Oh God –"

"That's not Kate, is it?" Christian grinded his teeth together, blinking heavily. I shook my head, biting at the inside of my cheek. "You have got to be kidding me."

He cursed and pulled out from between my legs, collapsing to the space next to me once again. I twisted my head to face him, watching as he grabbed a pillow and smothered himself with it. He growled into it then threw it across the room, over to the wall he shared with Mia's bedroom.

They didn't hear him. And, unfortunately for Christian, the noises continued for quite a few hours.


End file.
